Mother of Sorrows, Father of Regrets
by UltraVioletSoul
Summary: As the daughter of one of the wealthiest families in Fortuna, Osanna Serafini was supposed to live the life that others had carefully planned for her. However, the arrival of a mysterious young man from overseas will turn her world upside down, as she learns the truth of his nature and intentions. My humble take on the tale of Nero's parents. [[ Vergil x OC ]].
1. Prologue

Oh, well... where do I begin? I'm not sure, but I'll give it my best shot.

I abandoned the fandom, years ago. I kind of abandoned this site, too, but for reasons I can't explain I'm posting a fic here. All because my friend, Lucía, made me interested in DMC, again, and this time I set my eyes on Vergil. As a matter of fact, I'm writing this story with her invaluable help and support. She has collaborated with me endlessly throughout many of my other works (which I haven't posted here, I admit) reading my headcanons and sharing her own with me. Had it not been for her, I would have discarded this fic long ago and forgot about it... something I tend to do often. At this point, she has to be my co-author I swear since we've spent a lot of time talking about this fic ever since we began planning it, six months ago.

This is still a work in progress, of course, and it's been a very long time ever since I wrote something for DMC. The title was inspired for the most part in Pergolesi's Stabat Mater, specifically Stabat Mater Dolorosa, an hymn to the Lady of Sorrows— a beautiful and inspiring piece, in my opinion. So, without further ado, on with the chapter and I hope you enjoy.

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 **Disclaimer:**

I do not own Devil May Cry or its characters; they all belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement intended. All I'm trying to do is provide entertainment to the readers and by no means do I have lucrative purposes.

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 **Warnings:**

Unbetaed. Work in progress. English is not my first language. OCs.

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Cover art made by tumblr user **reyeslala**. If you wish to see a high quality version, visit the following link:

reyeslala (d o t ) Tumblr ( d o t ) com/private/153477858528/tumblr_oh0478PBVH1qlw77g

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 **Prologue**

A soft otherworldly chant echoes within the halls of Fortuna Castle, and the last rays of the sun slip through the horizon before the black veil of darkness shrouds the sky. Night has fallen with the first snow of winter, and there is a somber foreshadowing in the woeful melody that drifts in the air.

Many of the clerics are reunited in the grand hall, dressed in ceremonial purple garments, and they pray on their knees to their Savior— the lord of justice and mercy. They plead for a soul at her deathbed, an old woman who has been living on borrowed time but now her time to depart from this world has come. In her chambers she lies with eyes closed, surrendered to her fate as though she has nothing to fear even now. It's almost appeasing to see her so at peace and, for a moment, Kyrie doesn't dare break the solemn silence that has settled in the lavish bedroom— the one that had once belonged to Sparda himself, according to old tales— as ministers around her recite mantras in Latin in preparation for the imminent journey.

They have brought Kyrie here so suddenly and she still doesn't understand why the Holy Mother would want to see _her_ , of all people. Certainly, she's a pretty adept songstress and musician who has been hired by the congregation on several opportunities, given her talent to sing and musical skills, but she doesn't see a reason why her presence would be specifically required now. Still, she didn't question the Holy Knights when they went looking for her at her dwelling, before sunset, and broke the news that Her Holiness was dying.

Though Nero had been concerned for his wife's safety and offered to accompany her, she simply assured him that everything would be fine and that there was nothing to fear. With the reputation her husband has made for himself as a fearless and capable devil hunter, who has defeated countless enemies throughout his life, Kyrie doubted anyone would dare touch their family at this point. Also, despite people's initial caginess, the white-haired man had become something like a local hero in Fortuna and there were lots of stories on how he defeated the Heretic Pope and his False Savior many years ago. It was true he had some help, but to her it was clear that this was no mere feat any person could ever hope to achieve.

She understood Nero's distrust, of course, and the reasons why he still had his doubts about their religious leaders, even after the reform that took place in the aftermath of the Tribulation. But it was only an act of piety to fulfill the dying wish of a woman who had done nothing but good to the people of Fortuna when everything seemed lost. Kyrie couldn't ignore such a serious request, much any less when the Knight Captain dropped to one knee and implored for her grace since she'd taken too long to provide an answer, no doubt overcome with surprise. With a promise to see Her Holiness, the knights waited for her outside and she prepared to leave, unable to answer her children's endless questions while hoping to get some answers herself.

Kyrie has never been to this place before though Nero had given her some details of the castle years ago, when he fought against the forces of evil. Those memories still bring pain to her heart, after so many years, and she wishes she could forget those dark days when the world seemed to be close to an end. Younger generations don't know of the horrors their elders had to endure then and, by the grace of the Savior, they'll never have to experience the grief that comes with destruction and death.

After the immeasurable suffering that the Heretic Pope had caused, many people had resented the Order of the Sword and even she had been hesitant to return to the faith, still in grief over the death of her elder brother Credo. The beginnings of the reformed order were difficult at best in a time of crisis and endless conflict at the conclave, when Fortuna was being overcome by chaos and terror. People were trying to survive day by day and the threat of demons still remained. Nero tried to keep them at bay to the best of his abilities but more hands were severely needed. Many of the Holy Knights had died during the fight; those who lingered faced a serious stigma due to their past serving Sanctus, and their demonic nature that presented a danger too. It had been a risky move but there hadn't been many options left in the face of an onslaught of invaders that hurt innocent people.

They were men of honor, however, and sought to expiate for the wrong they'd done. Their greatest flaw had been to serve without question but, after an inquisitor was appointed and extensive investigation shed light on the matter, it was decided that they were clear of guilt given that they and their fallen comrades had fought to protect the citizens. Sanctus and his henchmen used them and discarded them as though their lives meant nothing, feeding them lies to manipulate them to do their bidding. Credo was a clear example of that. More importantly, Sparda himself was a demon that fought against his own race for the sake of mankind so it would have been a disservice to condemn those knights just for what they'd been forced to become. The ceremony of ascension was abolished, nonetheless, for all it stood in the past and the torture the knights had been put through to acquire demonic powers. Those who hadn't been strong of body and mind had died because of it, so needless to say it was a practiced that had to end.

It had been a herculean task the one the Holy Mother faced to rebuild Fortuna from shambles but, unbelievably, it was restored and prospered under her administration. When Sanctus was killed and there was no one to lead, it was difficult to find worthy candidates to wear the papal crown. Seeing as most of the men of the clergy had perished or had been influenced by Sanctus, one way or the other— which posed a risk—, and the knights had turned into demons, something unexpected took place. The conclave for the first time turned to the order of nuns that had been ignored for many years for the most part, due to the former Mother Superior's disagreements with Sanctus, when they remembered that the only requirement to occupy the post was to be a practitioner of the faith. As it was, technically anyone could be Pope, or Popess, but only men had been chosen…

Until now.

Kyrie removes the hood from her ginger head, which has become streaked with locks of silver over the years, and the young captain that accompanies her approaches the bed with a solemn disposition. He salutes the Holy Mother and bows ever so slightly to whisper something in the old woman's ear— more likely announcing her arrival. As he steps away, awaiting further instructions, the Holy Mother open her eyes, their color faded, and she turns to look at the songstress with a gentle smile.

"Dear Kyrie, you have come to see me after all… thank you," the woman rasps with a weakened but kind voice, and Kyrie feels a tug at her heart when her wrinkled hand reaches out to her.

"Your Holiness," she says as she approaches the bed and drops with difficulty to one knee, holding the hand to her temple as her hazel eyes look down. The years have taken their toll on her body, no doubt, and Kyrie doesn't feel like a young girl anymore.

She stays in that position for a few minutes, unsure of what to do as the Popess begins to dismiss the rest of the people in the room. By the time Kyrie realizes what's happening, there is no one else in sight and it's only her who remains in attendance of the Most Holy, much to her bewilderment.

"Please, arise. There is no need for such formalities between us. Call me by my name, like you used to when you were a little girl. Do you remember?"

With a warm smile, Kyrie nods and gets to her feet. "Sister Osanna."

"Ah, it feels like ages have passed since the last time I heard that name." She sighs with contentment, a look of nostalgia settling in her gray gaze. It's not a strange statement the one she's made, for her name had been changed to that of Gratia upon her ascension as pontiff several decades ago. "But where are my manners? Please, have a seat."

"You have called and here I am. Is there anything I can do for you?" Her words are tentative, but when she sees the pleased expression on Osanna's elder features, Kyrie grows at ease as she takes a seat in one of the armchairs conveniently placed nearby.

"I can see the years have not dulled the shine in your eyes, despite all the hardships you have endured. To me it feels as if it was yesterday when you were playing in the backyard of the children's home with Nero. Now look at you; the little girl has become a woman blessed with virtue, a loving family, and still many years ahead of her life." There is a melancholic smile on the elder woman's lips and she divert her eyes to the fireplace, at the flames crackling with steadiness. "When your time comes, there will be no regrets for you…" Although Kyrie doesn't understand very well what those words meant, she is expectant all the same. "I am sure you find it surprising that I have summoned you at my last hour. To tell the truth, I will depart this world soon. I can feel it."

"I wish it wouldn't have to be this way." An unwanted sob escapes her lips and Kyrie finds herself lamenting the imminent demise, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

"Do not fear, my dear. Death is only… another beginning," Osanna breathes with a gentle smile. "I find comfort knowing that I will go back to the arms of the Savior."

"How can we not mourn for you, the one who brought peace and order after the darkness? You, our light. Who will guide us when you're gone?"

"You are too kind to me, but you need not worry about tomorrow; I have made arrangements and Fortuna will be in good hands. As for me, I am nothing but a light that fades into oblivion. This earthly body is tired and sick and only wishes to rest for eternity. However, my reason to request your presence is not to cause any more grief than you are already in."

"Then what is it that you need from me? Anything that you wish, if it is in my power, I'll do my best to grant," Kyrie urges, uncertainty and uneasiness growing in the pit of her stomach.

"I only ask you to listen and try to understand— to look at me as a woman made of flesh and bones, a human being, and not the Holy Mother everyone believes me to be. Will you be so kind so as to do that for me?" Kyrie is shocked to hear the old woman's voice crack, as though sorrow is shaking her to the very core suddenly, and wonders what torments her so. In an attempt to provide comfort, she takes Osanna's hand between hers and leans closer, nodding as she swallows the knot in her throat. "There is a secret I have kept for many years and it has been the cause of both my joy and endless suffering. I thought I could endure until my last breath, but now that my time has come I can no longer find the strength to be silent about it. Despite my better judgment, deep down I do not wish to die with this weight that lies heavy on my heart and the pain of unfulfilled dreams. I have committed a sin too great and though I know I do not deserve forgiveness, I still hope he will find it in his heart to pardon my faults one day."

"What… what do you mean?"

"Listen to me, Kyrie. Listen carefully to my words because I am speaking truth." For the first time, she sees fear in those stern eyes— the ache and despair swelling in them as Osanna clutches her hand. "Your husband, your descendants… the blood of the Savior runs in their veins."

For a moment she is afraid to speak. Afraid to move. Afraid to breathe. Her jaw drops while she blinks in disbelief and awe, unable to recover from her stupor. Nero and their children… _descendants of Sparda_? How is that even possible? It cannot be… but then again, Nero's powers, his might. She had seen it when he defeated Sanctus, when he destroyed the False Savior.

And there was Dante…

She might have had her suspicions seeing as Nero was his spitting image, but never had she imagined that it could actually be true! If that's the case, then how can Osanna know about her husband's ancestry when the matter was a mystery even to her, his wife? No one knew where Nero came from, or who his parents were for that matter. Unlike most children at the orphanage, who had lost their families to demon attacks, he was a newborn left at the gates of the shelter in the dead of a cold night, wrapped in a thick black blanket.

Kyrie and her parents usually visited the children's home because they firmly believed in helping those who were most vulnerable, like Sparda did, and they met Nero. She'd quickly befriended him and they used to play together when she dropped by. Since they were close, it was impossible for her not to notice how cruel other kids were to him and mocked him for not knowing who his parents were. On several occasions she'd witnessed those spiteful episodes when she was with him, and heard them say that his mother must have been a prostitute that abandoned him. She'd been only a child back then, so Kyrie didn't understand what they meant and didn't have the courage to ask by the aggravated look in Nero's eyes.

Years later, she learned why those words hurt him so much. Her husband was most likely the son of an illegitimate union, which was a scandalous matter. Still, prostitution wasn't unheard of in Fortuna and more often than not this was the usual motive why children were forsaken at orphanages— something that made Nero stand out like a sore thumb, despite the fact he wasn't the first child born out of wedlock neither would he be the last. But even if by any chance they found about his biological parents, he'd said he wouldn't even be bothered to know who they were. They had forgotten about him so he would do the same.

"How would you know about that?" How can this woman be so sure of her allegations and, more importantly, why is she so convinced of them? That's a kind of certainty only a mother would show when it comes to her child—

At those thoughts, Kyrie covers her mouth with a hand and muffles a brusque gasp that leaves her breathless. _Impossible_ , she thinks and shakes her head, watching as tears stain Osanna's wrinkled face and the elderly woman closes her gray eyes with a pained sigh. Kyrie knows it in her heart, even before the words leave those trembling lips, that it's _her_ … she's the one who carried Nero in her womb and brought him into this world.

It happened many decades ago, when a foreign white-haired man appeared in the island. And from the moment they crossed paths, life could never be the same.

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 **A/N:** Well, what can I say? I admit I wasn't too keen on the idea of Nero being Vergil's son years ago. Then I saw that picture from the artbook, which states that our salty boy in blue is Nero's father, and I was speechless to say the least (though I'm not sure if it's canon or not... is it? I'm sorry for the stupid question.). Either way, I think in time I accepted it and it also gave me the excuse to write a story, in hopes to do something decent.

Well, hope you liked it and please review!


	2. How It All Began

The reason why I updated more or less fast is because I've had this chapter in the works for some time now. I managed to finish it recently, so I thought I'd post it as soon as I got the chance. I have some things planned for this fic, and I think it'll be fun to explore a relationship with Vergil as the story progresses. Of course, I promise to keep him in character to the best of my abilities so he doesn't end up being all lovey-dovey (or not so much, at least). Personally, that's not how I picture him to be with Nero's mom but it's only my opinion. Just in case you're wondering, nope, this story isn't about the woman in red (sorry!).

This chapter is really long, about 8,400 words without the author's note. I had to establish the setting, of course, the characters and the plot. It took me a while to finish but, finally, I did it.

Also, I want to express my gratitude to my best friends Lucía and Alexandra. They have helped me endlessly with the writing process reading my drafts, sharing headcanons, and making beautiful fanart for this story. I have no words to convey my appreciation for all the support they give me. Thank you for everything!

Thanks to **J** for clarifying that point. I imagined Capcom wanted Nero to be Vergil's son, but due to development issues they decided not to state it explicitly in the game.

Thanks to **Rebs2677** for being the first reviewer!

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 _ **EDIT 09/30/16, please read!**_

Changed the story to first person point of view, since the narration in third person perspective became really awkward (to me, at least) with the abundance of female characters. Hopefully, the narrative flows better this time and readers won't have to suffer from headaches anymore. Not only that but I revised the whole chapter, added new parts and altered others, especially the introduction.

There's about 1,200 additional words so I believe, if you decide to read it again, it will offer a new experience even if the essence of the chapter remains nearly the same. So, please, enjoy the revamped and improved version of chapter one! Now I can be at peace with myself knowing that this story is readable, and not the mess I presented you before.

I forgot to point this out in the prologue, but the story takes place before the events of Devil May Cry 3 though you probably knew that already.

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 _Playlist for the fic can be found here, in case you're interested: 8Tracks (d o t) com (slash) xraywhisky (slash)_ _what-never-was-and-never-will-be_

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 **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. OCs. English is not my first language.

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 _Made a mistake while I tried to fix a typo and ended up uploading the wrong version! Sorry about that. Oops._

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Themes that inspired this chapter were Vurria by Zizi Possi and L'Estate by Vivaldi.

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 **Part I:** _How It All Began_

Where to begin?

As simple as that question may appear to be, in all honesty, I was never certain where it all started. Was it when I met him? Was it when I lost my good judgment in favor of my youthful idle fancies? Was it when I kissed him for the first time, knowing that I was walking along a thin wire and there would be no one to stop my fall? Or perhaps when we gave in to the passions lovers share in privacy and, in my own naivety, I believed that he was mine as I was his?

 _Where to begin…?_ I would not know the answer to that. I do know that the end of my life as I knew it began the day I discovered the truth that would forever change my existence. By then he, who never swore eternal love to me, was gone and I was left alone to deal with the consequences of our sporadic trysts. I have no one to blame but me, however. I brought this fate upon myself, for I had consented and found contentment in the foolish conviction that in the end love would prevail above all things. Despite this knowledge and the affection I still retain for his memory, I held resentment against him for a long time and my soul was poisoned with anger at the thought of what could have been had he desisted to pursue the madness that would become his downfall. Had he stayed, _had he known_ , all would have been different— or that was what I wanted to believe, though deep down I always wondered if anything would have changed. It is a mystery that, maybe, will remain unsolved.

Throughout the years, I still remember him clearly… too well for my own comfort or peace. Those reminiscences are a part of my life I cannot surrender, even to this day. If I were to forget the sweet and the bitter, the joy and sorrows that I have been through— if I were to cast them into oblivion— then I would not be me anymore. I would not be telling this story in hopes of reliving the experiences that have shaped me into the person I am; neither would I seek release from the prison that has held me captive for so long.

I am getting ahead of myself, however. Perhaps it would be wiser to say, for the sake of simplicity, that the events that changed my life began when I was a young girl living in an island surrounded by the blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

It happened some time before the ascension of Sanctus, the Heretic and Bringer of Destruction. Back then, Solemnis the Pious had been the head of the Order of the Sword— a priest who came from a humble family and rose to greatness as Holy Father of our faith. Unfortunately, the pale shadow of death had settled down upon him all too soon, just a decade after his crowning, in the form of an illness that had no apparent cure. During his last years, his constitution had become so frail that he hardly ever left Fortuna Castle anymore and had stopped officiating major liturgical celebrations. It was, probably, a matter of public knowledge that the Vicar's health was in decline, despite the secrecy shrouding the matter, and there were even rumors that an election would be taking place soon at the basilica to choose his successor, in the imminent case he passed away.

But all this transpired during a time when the young me was not part of the convoluted politics of Fortuna, and neither did I have any wish to be involved in their schemes. This is not to say I did not feel concern at the news regarding the pontiff's well-being, and his looming departure, of course. After all, he had been a good man— following the sacred teachings of the Savior and caring for those in need—, so it was a pity to think that his days were numbered.

Back then I was not known as Gratia the First, neither did I ever imagine I would one day bear this immense responsibility on my shoulders— the hopes and dreams of so many, as well as their uncertainties and fears. Those days life was less complicated for me as Osanna, the daughter of a prominent family that had nurtured good relations with the Order of the Sword.

The Serafini had always been faithful devotees to the beliefs of the Order, as well as one of the most influential wealthy houses in Fortuna. Part of our amassed riches had come from the exploitation of natural resources in Lamina Peak and Ferrum Hills, giving rise to a small but effective metallurgical industry in the island. However, we were more notably known as an important partner and founder of the Bank of the Order, which provided financial support and stability to the whole economy of the community. As it has been for centuries, the activity in the region was focused for the most part in agriculture and fishing, but other lines of work had also seen major development throughout the years with careful investment such as textile manufacturing, shipbuilding, construction, and miscellaneous businesses.

High ranking members and benefactors of the organization, we had occupied a place of power in the aristocracy during several generations. One of these affiliates was the baroness Agnese della Scala Serafini—who, I must admit with regret, was my mother. After the death of my father, when I was a child, she took over the family and never married again. Her decision did not suppose an act of devotion to the memory of her deceased husband, but that is a matter that bears little relevance to my account for the time being.

Ever since I had knowledge and awareness, Agnese had not been the most amorous mother I could have hoped for but it is not something I hold against her, strange as that may be. Surely, Agnese had those rare moments but, overall, she had never been very demonstrative of her love— if she felt any for me, to begin with. That was only a kind of warmth I found in my old nanny Giovanna— or Nanna, as I affectionately used to call her— who had cared for me ever since I was born. Though I had grown into a young lady, I still remembered the elder woman with fondness and sought her comfort every now and then. I still do, in spite of her mistakes and the pain she has caused me.

Yet again, I must strive not to make haste into reflections that will carry no meaning until later.

My mother, or rather the woman whom I once called mother, was an adamant believer of the faith and followed the mandates of the Order near to the point of obsession. This caused our relationship to be… somewhat distant and strained. It was almost smothering the way she tried to control every aspect of my life from the way I dressed, to whom I was allowed to speak, and the places I was allowed to go. As a matter of fact, she refused to let me out of the house for another reason that did not involve attending mass and worshiping the god that had saved mankind. My only hope to see the world beyond the gates of the Serafini estate turned out to be a trip to the church with an escort— usually Nanna— and, even after that, I was not permitted to linger in town for longer than necessary. It appeared that a lady of 'virtuous upbringing' could not be parading herself in the streets like merchandise to anyone, so my days were mainly spent in the safety of a gilded cage.

For a long time, I did not question motives and I even thought this was normal behavior in all mothers. Or that was until I learned from other girls my age, cousins or daughters of other acquaintances, that this was not the case. When I dared ask Agnese why they were given a bit more freedom to do as they pleased, whilst I remained locked away in my own house, she only said that everything she did was for my own protection. The outside world was not the place of beauty and peace I believed it to be, so I had to trust the heart of a mother to know what was best for her daughter.

She talked down to me, as though I was oblivious to the danger that everyone had faced in this island during generations.

Demons that only wished to harm humans had always been a matter of concern to the general public, seeing as nobody was exempt of this hazard. To this effect, the Holy Knights had been instituted a long time ago to deal with such creatures. Unlike the regular Knights of the Order, who were responsible for law enforcement, the Holy Knights were the elite chosen and trained to become capable devil hunters. The clergy claimed that Sparda himself had appointed these men, and taught them many secrets to protect Fortuna from his own race, which is not a total fabrication as I came to learn.

The beasts that preyed on the population were commonly known as low level demons. They managed to cross through 'rifts' that still lingered in the region, even many centuries after Sparda had sealed the Hell Gate that stood at the heart of the city. The attacks were sporadic and did not arouse any serious suspicions about an invasion but, despite the allegedly weak nature of these demons—compared with much stronger ones, at least—, they still presented a clear threat to the community. So far no high level demon had made it to the human world and, for the sake of everyone, I had hoped it stayed that way since I had no wish to know what it would be like to find myself at the mercy of one.

It was derisory for Agnese to believe that being enclosed within these walls would protect us from evil, however. We were as vulnerable in our own house as if we were wandering the streets in the dead of the night. No one was safe if a demon decided to appear all of a sudden and wreak havoc, but people did not live confined out of fear at what would happen. In a way, it was curious to see how strong their beliefs were and how much they trusted the Order and the Savior to keep the safe. Everyone went on their daily routines, without fear or concerns. They roamed the city and were free to come and go as they pleased, do what they wanted, so long as they did not hurt others. It made me wonder what it felt like, to possess the liberty to choose or the illusion of free-will. How thrilling it must have been… planning even the most mundane of things.

But I suppose I was too naïve.

Considering I was the daughter of one of the wealthiest families in Fortuna, one would have guessed that my position would have made it easier to obtain anything I desired but that was not the case for me. The truth was my life had been planned out by other people, without a regard for my opinion or wishes, and that was not a very comforting thought. I had never complained about it or attempted to rebel against Agneses's authority, though, for I believed she only worried about my welfare. In spite of all her flaws and lack of understanding when it came to how I felt, I still held love for her and often contemplated on how she, without a doubt, had to go through the same situation when she was younger.

Several tutors schooled me at home, as was the custom for a young woman of the upper classes, and they were strict educators with me. History, literature, languages, rhetoric, religion, mathematics, music, and other arts, were some of my areas of learning before I claimed to hear the Savior's calling and consecrated my life to him in a convent. Though I had always been encouraged to cultivate my mind, it was only under the terms my family and tutors thought was befitting and nothing which could endanger the propriety or morality that defined my worth as a human being. After all, I was expected to marry a man from one of the families that belonged to the same circle as mine, so an improper comportment would have been more than undesirable for a lady of my standing.

Nanna had always said that any man would covet to take my hand in marriage, but that is a notion I find most ironic whenever I recall her words. The only man I long for would have probably made a face of disgust at the idea of sharing a life together, and argued that he would never need someone like me. Still, I always said to myself that in a better world, maybe somewhere in a remote part of his mind— or seemingly non-existent heart— he might have preserved something akin to love for me, no matter how small it was…

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"Miss?" Tearing my gaze away from the hands clasped on my lap, I suddenly found myself disturbed from my daydream at the sound of a gentle voice. Despite it had come from behind me, my eyes traveled to the mirror of the vanity I was seated at and I promptly met the expectant expression of a girl a few years older than me. "I already finished with your hair. Is this to your liking?"

Compelled by those words, I inspected the work on my hair with a bit of a lukewarm disposition. It was not the simple coiffure which was the cause of my evident disinterest, neither did I want to come across as uncaring to the poor maid, but the fact I was required to attend yet another of Agnese's parties was not something that instilled thrill in me. Truth be told, I had never been a good conversationalist and my socializing skills were not up to par with those of Agnese, who never seemed to run out of topics to talk about or never became tired of being around people. Such pleasantries were not my forte, although I was grateful that all the focus was on her for the most part. She always enjoyed being the center of attention and knew how to deal with her cohort, something I was not used to.

"Yes. Thanks, Ofelia," I replied with a lackluster smile, observing my reflection and the gray eyes that regarded me with indifference amid parted bangs of auburn hair.

I still was in my undergarments but my apparel had been prepared for my use already. It consisted in a creamy high-collar dress with long sleeves, seeing as that was the only kind of clothes Agnese allowed me to have in my wardrobe. To avoid the painful monotony in shades, it was complemented by a long silk jacket of pink brocade with a silver clasp at the front. Any other more revealing attire would be inappropriate or indecent at my age, Agnese claimed, and she did not want me flashing a patch of bare shoulder or collarbone— despite the fact she usually wore dresses that showed off her feminine attributes to those around her.

I was not eager to do the same; still, I could not help but wonder why I was subjected to different standards. However, what I really meant to ask was why I was not given a choice in anything, although at the time I did not realize my reproach implicated more. My dear nanny had been a bit reticent in explaining why at first but, when she did, it all seemed to come down to the ingenuousness inherent to my age. Agnese was an older woman, and she knew the effects that her female nature had on people— knew how to use her charm to sway their hearts with just the right look or smile. Apparently, I was still young and inexperienced to even understand such matters, oblivious to my own innocent allure— or that was how Nanna worded it, at least. From what I understood, it was clear Agnese feared I would draw the attentions and passions of someone so soon. Allowing that to happen would be disastrous, the beginning of endless calamity and suffering, if the man who dared approach was not worthy of her daughter— which was something for her to decide, of course.

Still, implying that I would fall for just about anyone who said sweet-nothings to me was a bit… insulting. I was not a starving dog who found contentment with a few bones! I knew my place and expected others to know theirs, too. Did she believe that I would forget all decorum and shamelessly pursue the affections of some man without her knowledge and approval? That was preposterous, to say the least. How could I even do that if I was not allowed to go outside? Even talking to my male cousins was awkward enough, whenever they asked me to dance with them. I could not even imagine how much of a bother would be to invest time in a futile chase.

Some of them were of marriageable age, a fact that did not escape Agnese's notice, and often visited with their families during the parties hosted in our house. I usually spent time with their sisters, as I was supposed to do. Of course, unlike me, these young girls were more extrovert— no doubt a result of their more lax fostering. They also enjoyed flirting with the handsome officers of the Order of Knights, when no one was watching. The thrill of youth was something that made people toss caution to the wind, and I feared that one day they would get in trouble for their behavior though they did not share my concerns. As for me, I strove to remain unseen all throughout the celebrations all the while, but that could not be helped when several guests— many of them young men— seemed to seek my company, much to Agnese's consternation.

It had not been until some years ago that I was formally introduced to society, during a big feast held in my honor to commemorate my birthday. By _society_ , it meant that mainly those belonging to the aristocracy of Fortuna were invited, though on many occasions there had been those artists Agnese was so fond of. As a woman with a deep love for arts, especially those in which she had been the source of inspiration, she was the patron of many painters, sculptors and musicians, promoting their works. For these young men, receiving the favors of the baroness was a golden opportunity so it was only natural that they would do their utmost to please her every caprice. She was accustomed to this sort of behavior from everyone, no doubt, and I could tell that it was something that delighted her beyond belief— to have people at her beckon and whim— though given her status it was not something strange.

As her daughter, I knew those quirks very well and, while I loved her, sometimes I believed she behaved like a spoiled child despite her mature age. She was the kind of woman that had to get what she wanted, when she wanted it, or else there would be consequences.

Making my way downstairs, towards the throng of people reunited in the ballroom, I began to grimace at the persistent discomfort around my torso. One would imagine that I would have been used to corsets, after many years wearing them, but in all honesty I still loathed them since day one. Seriously, it had to be detrimental to one's health wearing such a tight fit that made it hard to breathe! It made me all the more eager for this evening to be over soon, so I could bask in the freedom and comfort of a nightgown before preparing for another day. Alas, I had to endure with a smile on my face until then.

Of course my intention was not to make a grand entrance. The attentions I had received during my last birthday had proved to be too much, so I preferred to have a little peace if possible. While I was aware that it was in my best interests to get accustomed to such civilities sooner than later, since I would be the hostess of many gatherings in the future, I still found it to be tiresome. Why did Agnese think it was amusing to see the same faces all the time, either way? Her desire to show off her wealth, her high status and power, to be sought and adulated by others, was something I could not understand but it was not my place to judge her actions.

Despite my attempts to remain unnoticed, I felt many eyes trained on me as soon as I set foot in the room and my stomach churned. Before I knew it, I found myself greeted by people at every step, especially those elder relatives and their sons... and grandsons. By then, I almost regretted not listening to Nanna's advice. She had felt unwell that day— much to my concern and discontent—, so I had decided to go alone, to spare her the distress of trailing after me everywhere, despite her insistence not to. I wish I had done what I was told, but I did not feel comfortable asking other people to look after me as if I were a little kid.

After brief salutations and other courtesies to satisfy the required etiquette, I finally found refuge in aunt Catarina—my father's sister— and her daughters. The blonde woman accompanied the girls with their chaperon, an old lady with a rather acrimonious face, who kept a vigilant eye on her charges. My cousins did not look too excited, however, probably because as of late their mother did not let them out of her sight for a minute. After the 'unfortunate' association of one of her daughters with a knight of low rank, and the unsavory speculations that spread when my cousin ran away one night, Catarina did not want to risk any further damage done to her family's name so she kept a close eye on her other children.

Neither Agnese nor my aunt, or daughters, had given me any details on the matter but Nanna told me all I needed to know. It seemed that Gilda had become intimate with her beloved, which introduced the dreary possibility of a bastard child— in addition to Gilda's threats to commit suicide if my aunt dared hurt the man in any way. Left with no choice but agree to this union, Catarina begged her sister to make arrangements so her future son-in-law would be appointed to a position in the Order of Knights, worthy of their family, before the unexpected wedding took place. From what I could tell, this certainly was not the most ideal way to get a husband, but at least Gilda seemed to be happy with her choice and her newborn son.

"Where is Giovanna?" Catarina asked with a frown, waving her fan about so the cool wind blew on her rosy face. Despite the large windows being open wide to let fresh air in, the Fortunian summer was being unkind that year.

"She is ill today. I thought some rest would benefit her," was my answer as I eyed the displeased expression of my cousins, who stood with arms crossed by their mother's side. "I'll be fine without her for a day."

"Still, you should have chosen someone else to escort you this evening. An unmarried girl, like you, should never be alone."

Now she was trying to police my actions? Having Agnese do so was enough, but that my aunt questioned my propriety and upbringing was something I found in bad taste. I was not like Gilda and she should not be so fast to criticize! At her words, I felt a little vexed on the inside though I maintained my cordial manners, for the sake of an amenable exchange.

"Really, aunt, you worry too much sometimes. What is it so dangerous that I would need to have a chaperon by my side, even in my own house?" I retorted with a small smile. "Besides, we are among friends, aren't we? These people are no strangers to our family. It seems odd to me that you would suddenly entertain such unsympathetic thoughts, as though we should be wary of our own guests."

Catarina flustered slightly and took a deep breath, flapping her fan with even more energy than before. "No. Of course not, my dear! How can you even suggest that I would say something so terrible? I simply thought that you could use some company. Having noted the attention you've drawn upon yourself, however, I would say that indeed you shouldn't be alone… lest one of those pesky boys would try to harass you. Youth has become bolder as of late and lacks the decency that distinguished our older generations. In my days, such impertinence was unthinkable!"

"I have known those _pesky_ boys, who I must remind you are friends and part of our family, by a major or small degree, since I was a child. They wouldn't appreciate that you refer to them with such contempt." I was beginning to think that approaching Catarina had been a bad idea, but it was too late for regrets. It was evident my aunt was still bitter at the choice Gilda had made. While I had believed a newborn grandson would inspire a change of heart in her, it did not seem to be the case.

"Dear, _all_ of them are the same and that is something you'll come to learn, eventually. I don't need to remind you that anyone would want to marry into our family, do I?"

"Mother, would you stop it already? The last thing we need is for someone to overhear your delirious self-important prattle. To be honest, it is embarrassing," Leonora, the second eldest of daughters, said through gritted teeth whilst glaring at her mother. "And leave poor Anna alone. I'm sure it is enough misery that her mother doesn't allow her to put a foot outside this estate for something else other than attending mass."

"Young lady, it is unacceptable that you speak to your mother in such an offensive manner!" the old chaperon chided with a hiss and Leonora huffed in vexation, crossing her arms again.

" _That_ is what I should have done with your sister from the very beginning. Had I been less lenient on her, then she wouldn't have married that penniless, good-for-nothing, excuse of a husband she has," Catarina muttered with derision, closing her fan with a sharp movement of her hand.

"Mother, calm down, please?" Donata, the youngest, pleaded whilst I wished I could disappear to avoid this awkward conversation. Of course Catarina would not be in the mood— she had hardly been as of late— but I had hoped to exchange some pleasantries at the very least. Oh, well, nobody could reproach me for not trying, but I took this as my cue to leave.

"Dear aunt, of course I appreciate your concern," I said, in an effort to appease the woman's temper, never losing the polite tone in my voice. "If I have offended you, somehow, please, accept my apologies. Civilities have never been my forte, I'm afraid, but I'll try my best in future occasions. My mother and I are delighted that you graced us with the pleasure of your company this evening, and we hope the bash is to your liking."

With a smile and a curtsy, I turned around and walked away feeling a bit disheartened.

* * *

It was not turning out to be the most thrilling evening, but I supposed it could always be worse.

However, my feet were killing me and that abominable corset I wore still mocked me. The constant socialization made me feel a little out of place and flustered, despite my best efforts to appear amiable to everyone. Honestly, I had a mighty need to crawl under the sheets and stay there until the end of time. Add the accursed heat, which had my body boiling under those clothes, to my list of complaints and I did not believe I wanted to linger for too long there. It became even more upsetting when I realized I could not eat all those delicious refreshments that were being served, since my dress became a little too tight for my liking after a few bites and drinks.

This was unacceptable. Ever since I was a little girl, I had been required to attend these events. However, back then I was allowed to be a child and did not have to worry too much about giving the impression of a delicate porcelain doll. At least, until Agnese thought it was time I started acting like a proper lady and forced me to leave fun and games aside.

It could not be helped, I thought, for one could not stay a child forever. It was the natural order of life, to grow old and die. In a way, I feared this assumed truth which everyone came to understand throughout the years— which I had learned at a very young age, with the loss of my father. Those wounds in my heart had healed, but the fear of losing loved ones still persisted and I supposed that was something everyone experienced in a different degree.

I was worried about Nanna's health. After all, she was a mother to me— the one who had shared my joys and had wiped the tears from my eyes. She had cared for me and still did, so it was natural that I would feel the same way towards her.

Nanna had been a little fatigued as of late, no doubt a sign of her old age, so I did not wish for her to exert herself any further. The woman had done enough work in her lifetime, having looked after the baroness and her siblings with proficiency and love— the reason why she was respected and appreciated in our family. When Agnese married the baron of the Serafini family, of course she wanted her old nanny to look after me, her firstborn and only child.

Her absence would be excused, certainly. Still, I wished to know how she was doing and looked for a pretext to get away for a while. No one would notice my brief withdrawal, or so I hoped. Agnese was always the center of attention, and I had played my part of gracious daughter to the best of my abilities so I believed I deserved some respite.

As I climbed the marble stairs, intent on reaching the wing of the main bedchambers, a strange indistinct movement out of the corner of my eye drew my attention. Coming to an immediate halt, startled by the unexpected intrusion, I gazed at the top of the stairs and frowned at the eerie feeling in my gut.

Did I just hear steps fading into the corridor?

Despite my sudden uneasiness, I quickly dismissed any concerns. Surely it must have been an attendant running an errand or one of the knights standing guard nearby. Nothing I should be worried about.

The hallway was empty, however, but I thought no more of it. Soon, I reached Nanna's bedroom, which was close to mine, and poked my head in just to find that the woman was fast asleep. She had been reading before dozing off and still had her glasses on. Shaking my head with a smile, I tiptoed towards the bed trying to be as quiet and gentle as I could. With care not to rouse her from her slumber, I slowly took the book from her wrinkled hands and the spectacles from her eyes, setting them on the nightstand by her side. Nanna slept like a log, snoring a bit loud, which was something that I had always found amusing. After pulling the sheets higher to cover her round stomach, I switched the table lamp off and kissed her goodnight.

But I still had no desire to leave.

The gibbous moon shone in the dark blue sky, its soft glow slipping into the room through large windows. With light steps, I made my way to the balcony breathing in the fresh air of the evening before heaving a sigh of contentment. I found myself growing more at ease as I observed the gardens below, colorful with flowers in bloom, and the peaceful comfort that enveloped my heart made me think there could not be anything more beautiful than the silent magnificence of this little world.

Was I too simple-minded, perhaps?

"Anna?" she called, bringing me out of my youthful reverie all too soon. "What are you doing here?"

Biting my lower lip, I chose not to answer that question knowing that I would be sent on my way sooner than later. "Go back to sleep, Nanna."

"You should be at the gathering with the others. Did something happen?" Her voice was drowsy and raspy, I noticed while turning around to have a better look at the woman.

"Nothing happened. I just wanted to see how you were faring."

"Ah, and I suppose that sneaking out of the party wasn't part of the plan all along, hm?" Nanna mused with feigned innocence, making me feel somewhat ashamed, but then chuckled. "My sweet child, I know you worry about me but I assure you that tomorrow I'll be as good as new. At least it's not winter so I don't have to suffer from pain in my poor bones, ugh!"

"You know me well, don't you?" Smiling with anxiety, I approached her and recognized the slight frown that formed on her weathered, chubby features.

"Agnese will notice you're missing, and you know how much she dislikes it when that happens. Don't' worry about me. I'll be fine, I promise, and so will you be, little potato."

At that pet name— which I had found embarrassing ever since I was a little girl, but Nanna totally thought was endearing— I groaned in frustration. "For the umpteenth time, don't call me _that_!"

My reaction only elicited peals of laughter from her, and I rolled my eyes— though deep down I had always cherished her affectionate demeanor. "Well, if you don't want me to keep treating you like an adorable baby then you would do well to leave now, young lady. And could you please return this book to the library for me?" Nanna nodded to the item next to her and sighed with weariness. "I don't believe I can finish it in this life or the next. It bored me to tears and I fell asleep."

"Or you could read it every time you have difficulty falling asleep," I suggested, taking a hold of the book.

"Hm, I never had any problems with that but I'll keep it in mind," Nanna mumbled, before giving me an expectant look. "What are you waiting for? Off with you now, _shoo_!"

"Yes, sweet dreams," I giggled before leaning towards her so she could kiss my forehead.

"Goodnight, my little sparrow."

* * *

The way back was protracted, since it was a lengthy walk more or less. Nanna was right, though; Agnese would get worried if she noticed my absence, so I needed to make haste. If she asked where I had been, I would make up any excuse to explain my disappearance.

As I passed by the library— one of the many ones we had— I noticed that the door was ajar. I did not think much of it, at first; maybe Nanna had forgotten to close it when she fetched the book earlier. However, as I neared, I was taken aback by the strange shifting noises that came from within. In my frantic state, I did not realize I had stopped breathing and lay flat against the wall, trying to listen better. I still did not want to assume the worst but I felt my heart skip a beat when my suspicions were confirmed. It was barely audible, but it sounded as though someone were manipulating books in a very impatient manner, flicking through pages almost with carelessness.

 _Oh, no._ There was someone inside...

That could not be possible. What were they even doing there? The room was too dark to read! Was it a thief? A… ghost? In all honesty, I was getting really scared at this point and, as I peered through the crack of the door into the endless void, I wondered what I should do. Certainly, I could not leave without being certain of what was going on so, mustering enough courage to proceed, I set the item in my hands aside and seized a metallic statuette that decorated one of the many tables of the hallway, bracing myself for a fright... or a fight. Not the wisest choice, but what if someone had truly broken into our house? There could be important documents stored in there for safekeeping, or other precious items. One never knew! Either way, no person should trespass the property of another— that was common knowledge. Such criminal behavior was unacceptable and punishable by law.

So many thoughts crossed my mind and, in my confusion, I tended to do stupid things sometimes. What made me believe it was a good idea confronting a delinquent? It was hard to say but I only realized the absurdity of my actions after I had pushed the door open and ventured into the unknown. It was then that what little light managed to slip from the corridor revealed a dark large shape, standing next to one of the many bookshelves.

 _What in Sparda's name was that thing_? Could it be a… demon? Oh, I was right all along; Agnese was delirious to believe that anyone would be safe here!

This was not the end of my inanity, however. With trembling hands, I sought the light switch on the wall and jumped in surprise at what I found— taken aback at such an ordinary sight. It was… a person— seemingly a man, given his broad back and tall height. He wore a hooded cloak over his body, and he appeared to be leafing through pages of a tome without a care for my presence. To be honest, he did not even look the least bit concerned at being caught!

"W-who are you?" No doubt a ridiculous thing to say, but in my state of mind it was inevitable. He would not try to conceal himself from head to toes if he intended to reveal his identity to others, right? Maybe the most accurate question I could think of was, "what do you want?"

The stranger did not reply. It gave me the impression he might have not been even aware that I was in the same room as him. He just closed the hardcover book with an audible snap, returned it to the shelf and then drew another.

What was he even doing? Did he seriously come here just to read?

It was true that our manor stored vast and valuable information on various areas, but this was my personal library. If he was merely interested in novels, and other mundane topics pertaining to the fields I studied under the guidance of my tutors, then he would probably be better off at a public library. It would have been less of a hassle for him if he had just applied for a membership but, in any case, this was hardly the moment to be thinking about his own convenience. Only Sparda knew what could this man be doing here and what he was capable of. His mere presence was enough to stir apprehension in my heart, and I did not think it would be wise to press for more answers given my disadvantageous position.

"You shouldn't be here. Leave or… or I'll—!" My voice faltered the moment I was aware of the weapon leaning against the shelf, a Japanese sword sheathed in a dark scabbard, and I took a step back with a muffled gasp. He… he was armed. There was no way I could be a match for him (not that I seriously thought I had much chance to begin with) and the fact that I was alone with a dangerous individual— maybe a psychopath!— was making me more frightened as time passed. The situation was unnerving me and I had little idea of what to do... or no idea at all.

With a deep growl— he was a man, I was certain of that then— he closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf. This time, however, he did not bother to pull out another and remained silent for a moment or two whilst I began to retreat quietly, hoping he would not notice. To my misfortune, he finally deigned himself to acknowledge me, throwing a glance over his shoulder before he grabbed the sword in his firm grasp and turned around. I still could not see his face well, for the hood obscured most of his features, but I took in the frown on his thin lips and it did not bode well for me.

My breath caught in my throat at the realization that I was the focus of his attention. He made no attempts to hurt me, though I did not trust him to remain that way for very long. The man seemed to be assessing my persona, judging my strength of character... as if he were deciding whether I was even worth the dust on his shoes. It made me feel small but I could not let him know I was intimidated. He was the one committing a wrongdoing here, not me!

An eternity seemed to pass and the more I stared at him, my act of serenity crumbled little by little. When he made another move towards me, however, I lost it and for the first time acted on pure instinct in an attempt to preserve my short life.

 _Whack!_

What happened to me? It was hard to tell but, considering the rather bizarre circumstances, I was quite terrified. At that moment, all I could do was watch in horror as the statuette went flying out of my hands, in his direction.

 _Oh, sweetest Sparda, Help of the Afflicted_. I had attacked him first, like a savage!

Alas, or as luck would have it, my aim was terrible despite the fact I could have sworn the statuette would hit him right in the face. Instead, it flew past him and collided against the bookcase, before tumbling to the floor with a dull thud. Needless to say, he did not seem to be impressed by my pitiful attempts at defense, but he had become very aggravated at my actions and I backed away in a rush.

"Guards, there's an intruder here!" I yelled to the top of my lungs, hoping for the life of me that the Savior would protect me from harm. "Please, someone help me!" Even if I tried to run away from him, there would be nowhere to hide. My only chance was to fight any way I could and make enough noise, so the knights would find me because who knew where they were.

Maybe the racket would scare him, too.

I did not wish to put Nanna in harm's way, however, so I hoped she would not get here sooner than the knights or else this would end badly for us. With a determined purse of my lips, I grabbed the closest item I could find, which turned out to a blue porcelain vase, and threw it at him with all the might in my arms. At that point, I could care less if it was an antiquity that had cost a lot of money, and whether provoking him was the wisest decision. This was probably the most stupid thing I had ever done in my life, but it was too late to turn back and I was panicked beyond belief.

"Ahh, _help_!"

He took a casual step to the side to avoid being hit and then grumbled something under his breath. The vase shattered with a loud clatter so I could not hear a thing, but it surprised me to see that he had turned his back on me and paced to the window with long strides. Before I could make any sense of his intentions, the stranger had opened the panes wide open and climbed over the frame with a swift jump that had my eyes widening the size of dinner plates.

 _Was he going to leap?!_ There were two stories below… and this man was out of his mind!

"Wait a moment, are you insane? You'll kill yourself!" Marvelous; this was just what I needed— the corpse of a suicide victim to liven up this fine evening. This could not be happening but, for reasons I was unable to comprehend at that very moment, it _was_ happening and I was becoming desperate. "What do you think you're doing? Stop right there!"

It was already too late. At the sight of what, undoubtedly, had to be an act of downright madness, I could do nothing but muffle a shriek of horror with both hands. He did not scream or hesitate in his actions for a second, as though his life was not a matter that deserved the slightest concern. No, he did not seem to care at all and let himself fall into the night, his dark cloak fluttering in the wind.

I wished I could move but my body refused to respond. How long had I been standing there? Where was everyone?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the knights rush into the library with swords drawn at long last. They warily inspected the room in search of danger but only I remained, with a pile of shattered porcelain on the floor and a look of fright on my face.

"Miss, we heard the commotion. What happened?" One of them asked, trying to catch his breath, evidently distraught about the whole upheaval I had caused.

"By Sparda's horns, what is going on?" Nanna barged in with a distressed expression and, at the sound of her voice, I finally found the strength to budge running to find shelter in her arms. "My child, what happened? I heard your screams and I tried to get here as soon as I could." She placed her hands on the sides of my face, whilst I struggled to take some deep breaths to calm down my heart hammering in my chest. Or at least I would have, if the stupid corset was not so tight. "You're pale and cold!"

I pointed to the open window and babbled with a shaky voice, still in a daze. "Someone… jumped. He... he may be dead!"

Another knight, the youngest one, made his way to the site in question and looked down, before he turned to the others and shook his head. "There is nothing."

It was impossible. There should be a corpse or someone badly hurt! "I do not understand. There was someone here, a man. I swear! He was armed with a sword. For a moment, I thought he would kill me so I tried to defend myself and screamed for help. Then all of a sudden he opened the window and jumped down," I finished my account with a strenuous sigh.

"What was he doing?"

"I'm not sure... He was inspecting some books but I don't know what he was looking for. It seemed he wasn't successful in his endeavors, though." Fearing they would not believe me, I chose to omit the detail that he was reading books in complete darkness. I could barely give credit to my own eyes.

"Did you see his face? Can you provide a description?"

"No, I couldn't because he wore a hooded cloak." This habit of people wearing hoods had to be an obstacle during investigations. How could they even identify felons?

"In that case, the only thing we can do is report this situation to the captain immediately. A party will scout around the estate to make sure there's no suspicious activity, and knights will stand guard in this wing for your protection. You should probably rest for the time being, Miss. I'm sure this disagreeable incident has left an appalling impression on you, and it wouldn't be wise to return in such a state of mind."

"I will send word to your mother that you're not feeling well to attend," Nanna intervened, rubbing my shoulders with gentleness. With no energy left in my body to even stand on my feet, I leaned against her and acquiesced with weariness. "We'll have this mess cleaned tomorrow. If there's nothing else you need to say, young man, we'll retire for the night."

It took me a while to realize Nanna had led me to my bedroom, until she was helping me undress. Not a single word on the matter escaped her lips and neither did I want to talk about it, but I sensed her deep concern in the way she tried to quiet my fears.

Free from the tortuous corset, for the time being, I slipped into a nightgown and sought comfort under the sheets before Nanna offered me a glass of cool water and tucked me in bed. She wished me goodnight and told me that everything would be alright, that there was nothing to worry about despite what I had witnessed.

Bringing my knees to my chest I could tell that sleep would not come easily to me so I lay there, wondering if by any chance I was losing my mind. If by tomorrow there was no trace of that man, would that mean I had imagined it all? Would people think that I had lied? Despite all these doubts plaguing my head, deep down, I knew it had to be real. None of this could have been a figment of my imagination; my senses could not have betrayed me and played this cruel joke on me.

I refused to believe it.

* * *

 **A/N:** And that's another chapter. I am sure that you've realized who was that man in the library. Of course you did, heh. He's pretty much got his name written all over him, but my intention was to make it obvious to the readers so you wouldn't have to wait too long for Vergil to make an appearance.

 **Edit 09/30/16:** As some people may know, it was stated in the DMC4 novel that Solemnis was Sanctus's predecessor.

The reason why I chose Italian names for the characters is because in the game many names have Latin origins such as Credo, Agnus, Sanctus, Gloria. Nero is the Italian word for 'black', seeing as he was wrapped in a black blanket when he was abandoned at the orphanage. The names given to Bianco Angelos, Alto Angelos, are also Italian. The name Kyrie has a Greek origin but, well, that's another story. I also have a headcanon where people in Fortuna speak Italian, though some would know English too. This is the reason why I stated the island is located in the Mediterranean Sea. It's set in a semi-realistic world, in a way.

Well, that's all for now! Hopefully, you're enjoying the story so far. Reviews are appreciated, so thank you in advance.


	3. Savior

_Themes that inspired this chapter were Il Trillo del Diavolo by Giuseppe Tartini and_ _Dream of Venice by Jesper Kyd._

* * *

 **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. English is not my first language. OCs.

* * *

 **Part II:** _Savior_

The next day, Agnese was not in the most favorable disposition and for good reason.

She had learned about the intrusion that morning during breakfast and, needless to say, was not very keen on the idea of being kept in the dark about such concerns. The explanation the knight captain offered was that, despite my valid claims, the knights had been unable to find any signs of suspicious activity around the estate and, therefore, saw no motive to trouble her last night. However, this did not seem to be enough for her.

"Are you certain that you have done a careful search in our grounds? I will _not_ tolerate the presence of any prowler roaming freely in my property, as though it belonged to them," Agnese said, her stern voice echoing in the dining hall as her hazel eyes narrowed with mistrust and exasperation. She stared at the captain standing tall in the middle of the room, and I noticed the strained breath he took before he spoke with restraint.

"I assure you, ma'am, that we have made our best efforts to catch this undesirable but have found no trace of him whatsoever. His trail eluded us in the cover of the night, but we shall look into the matter closely in hours to come. My report will be ready before the day ends and I will supervise the inquiry of domestic service personally, in case someone has witnessed any event that could serve to our investigation."

It was unlikely they would find the culprit of the crime, and cause of my commotion, but the captain had to appease the baroness's temper somehow. From that perspective, I could fathom the anxiety he was feeling at the moment given that Agnese was not the most adroit at sympathizing with others, when her interests were compromised. Truth be told, I felt sorry for Sir Vittorio and wished that none of this would have ever transpired. Unintentionally, I had dragged him into a difficult situation and I feared for the outcome of this conversation. How could he hope to find someone who had vanished into thin air or was probably a figment of my imagination? Only the Savior held the answers to my questions at this point.

"What I want to know is how has anyone managed to break into our house, unseen and armed might I add, putting my daughter's life at risk!"

The captain clenched his jaw and sighed. "With all due respect, my lady, you were hosting a celebration with several guests yesterday. Events like these offer a higher probability for these felons to escape our surveillance undetected."

From the sour and offended expression she wore at his words, I could tell this exchange had not taken a good turn and I held my breath, sensing the knot that formed in my stomach whilst I sipped from my porcelain cup of coffee and milk.

"Are you implying that this is all my fault, or perhaps you are too incompetent to handle the security of this household?"

The captain's face paled and he gulped, his dark eyes widening ever so slightly. "No… no, of course not. That is not what I meant—"

"Tell me, have you forgotten why you're here? Or could it be that I need to find someone better suited for the task?

The man fell silent, unsure of how to reply to the barrage of questions, and with a subtle clear of my throat I took this chance to intervene. "Mother, I do not think it's the captain's fault. I'm sure he had many issues to be concerned about yesterday, your security most important of all." It was the least I could do to allay the tense atmosphere and convince her not to be so harsh on him. If the baroness built a bad reputation for Sir Vittorio, his career in the Order of Knights might as well be finished and I could not allow that to happen because of my foolish negligence. "I should not have abandoned the great hall without your knowledge, in the first place. That was something careless of me to do and I must apologize for being an inconvenience to everyone. Had I been a little more cautious in my actions, then we wouldn't be having this conversation right now," I admitted, doing my best to convey regret whilst Agnese eyed me with a suspecting look that I found most invasive and accusative.

"Very well, then. I will accept Osanna's excuse in your behalf, but I trust you will not let an incident such as this happen again," she stated, before waving a hand absent-mindedly and returning to her meal. "You are dismissed."

"Yes, ma'am." The captain's voice was strained as he bowed to Agnese and took his leave.

Despite the collected facade I had to maintain, for the sake of keeping up appearances, a feeling of dread had taken over me as soon as it became clear that there was no sign of this mysterious outsider. To be honest, I was nowhere near as eager to know what had truly taken place last night— who this person was or what his intentions were. The fact that my fears had been confirmed, however, made me restless in ways I never expected and I began to question my own sanity. Either I was having delusions or this man was exceptional at stealth after, somehow, surviving a fall that should have left him in no conditions to proceed with his escape.

Something was terribly wrong with this story— even the captain could tell, but he did not dare contradict my account as that would have been a clear sign of disrespect on his part. His disconcert had not escaped my attention, when I gave him a description of the events, but I still stood firm in my allegations against the odds. If I retracted after the uproar I had caused, and the fuss Nanna made about me after that, the situation could only become worse and Agnese would be truly displeased that I had lied to them all this time. Not to mention that I would make her look like a fool in front of the whole house.

"Unbelievable. The nerve he has to oppose me!"

"I know you're upset, mother, but sometimes these kinds of incidents happen. There was no need to intimidate that poor man. He's doing his best to solve this issue—"

"I was _not_ intimidating him; I was reminding him what is his place, in case he had forgotten. One day, when you manage your own household, you'll understand that you need to have a firm hand to deal with these people, otherwise they start believing they are your equal and that is something that cannot happen. They need to remember who's above."

What she said was not something that made me comfortable. I had never believed to be superior to anyone else, the way she implied we were. If there was something that Nanna had taught me well, and I always kept in mind, was to regard everyone with the same level of respect that I would like to receive. She never told me, but I knew she regretted not having been insistent enough with Agnese in that aspect of her upbringing.

While I had considered keeping my thoughts to myself, at first, I felt compelled to speak nevertheless. "If I may be so bold so as to give my opinion, mother, I believe the captain has a point that deserves consideration. Regardless of the best efforts of our knights to provide a safe environment to us, a bash is the perfect chance for anyone to sneak in our house unnoticed. Anyone could devise a way to infiltrate, and they could mingle amongst our guests with far more ease. Unless the knights kept a close surveillance on _everyone,_ which could have instilled some indignation among your friends at your misplaced wariness, then I'm afraid it was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Something that should not have occurred in the first place, if we are to speak truthfully."

"I understand your concern but do think of this clearly; Sir Vittorio has been a loyal servant to you during all these years, and never once did I hear you complain about him. If you send him away, and choose someone else to oversee the security of our estate, would that really be a wise decision? What if that person truly doesn't meet your expectations and later we have to regret some dire consequences? Is it really worth the risk?"

Agnese took a moment to assess my words, and then she pursed her lips whilst lying back on her chair. "You may be right about that; after all, he had the best recommendations that I could ever hope to find. I have to wonder, though, why are you so concerned about that man?"

"Well..." I downed a bite of pastryand licked my lips with unease, not having expected that question from her _._ "In all honesty, I am not particularly interested in him." What other answer could I offer to abate her misgivings? He was a good man and had a family to support, like most people working in our house, but I was not about to share my thoughts on the matter with Agnese if I intended to convince her of my reasons. I would definitely never voice my opinion regarding her attitude, either. That would have been a clear sign of defiance to her, and I preferred avoiding any confrontations. After all, she was my mother and I was supposed to abide by her rules. "I am merely concerned about the affairs of our home. Do you find it so strange?"

After a moment's consideration, the frown on her face disappeared and she smiled softly— no doubt humored at my response. "I suppose it is an opportunity to prepare for your future role and I am pleased you've decided to become more involved. Now you understand why I am so troubled every time you're out of my sight?"

"Yes, mother, and I will not attempt to do it ever again."

"Good girl. Now finish your breakfast, my dear, for you have much to do today and I don't want you neglecting your obligations."

For good measure, I reciprocated her mirth but deep down I was a bundle of nerves and the uncertainty was eating away at my mind. This unpleasant sensation persisted and became stronger as the end of the day approached, much to my dismay.

As I feared, the captain came empty-handed with his investigation despite his efforts to bring the matter to a closure. There was not much I could contribute to its resolution other than my account of the events, and none of the other attendants had seen anything out of the ordinary that evening— something that made me believe I was an unwitting liar. To me it felt as though I had seen a ghost, for the man I had encountered seemingly vanished without a trace. In the following days I hoped that the issue would be forgotten if only because it had become an uncomfortable subject that I wished to bury, along with the appalling recollection of what had transpired.

Despite my wishes, I could not simply put it out of my head and, in my attempts to find an explanation for this inscrutable affair that was becoming the bane of my existence, I started considering all the possibilities. Could it be that I had seen a ghost, after all— the reflection of someone who committed suicide in my house, many years ago? That sounded highly unlikely, though, for I had never heard of such a story before. Would Nanna not have told me anything, if that was the case? She looked like she did not have the foggiest idea of what I was talking about when I decided to ask her, at long last.

Until it occurred to me that he could be a demon in disguise…

It was the only logical reason I could conceive as to why he had jumped without any fear, along with his unfathomable vanishing, but I had no actual way to corroborate my suspicions. Demons taking human form were not unheard of, however, and there were some documented cases that I tried to look into though I did not possess as much time as I would have liked to study them. What I knew was that Sparda himself had been a demon that could assume a less terrifying appearance, for the sake of blending with our race— although those accounts were lost in time, and no one really knew what he looked like. The closest depiction we had of him was that of a man with large horns but, of course, something told me that was too bizarre to be true.

But back to my elusive stranger— as odd as it sounded to call him mine— whatever he was it could not be from this world. Hopefully, he was not a figment of an unstable imagination but, given the circumstances, I was not sure I wanted to reach the bottom of this.

* * *

That morning I woke up before dawn with a strange feeling that unsettled me deeply— a hunch, so to speak. Being the fool I was I tried to dismiss it, convinced that I had let my own hysteria take root in my mind already and I was merely stressed.

Getting some sleep during the past nights had proven to be difficult for me, so I was rather vexed that I was roused from my slumber earlier than I was supposed to. It meant I would rest less than I had intended to and the idea was not one that I found very appealing. There was not much I could do, however, but lying in bed waiting for the sun to rise. Some hours later, one of the maids walked in and pulled the drapes of the large windows to let the morning light inside my room— which prompted me to groan and hide my face under the covers. I had never been allowed to sleep in unless I was ill, so in a matter of minutes I was forced to accept the fact I would be dragged out of the bed.

After washing the somnolence away from my features, I made myself presentable and headed downstairs. Surprisingly, the day began with an alteration in my typical routine when I walked into the dining hall and discovered that Agnese was absent.

A little taken aback, since she had never run late before, I sought answers from one of the attendants waiting on me. "Good morning, everyone. May I ask where is my mother?"

The butler, a man in his forties, stepped forward and bowed. "I am afraid Lady Agnese will not be able to join you this morning, miss. She has important business to attend with some visitors, at the moment."

That was odd. Usually, she granted audiences to her guests later in the afternoon. Did something happen that required her immediate attention? Nobody was in conditions to provide me with good information, so I thought no more of it and had breakfast alone before retiring to my chambers to don a more formal and appropriate attire. The idea of replacing my comfortable dressing gown for a corset, yet again as it happened every day, bothered me but there was no way around it. As the maid tightened the laces on my back and constricted my upper body— a strain that every woman had to endure with contentment for the sake of an ideal figure— I only asked to have fortitude.

By then, my routine dictated that I should attend mass, and Nanna did not take long to let me know that she would be waiting for me in the hall. Despite we had a chapel in our grounds for our personal use, she had convinced Agnese to let me accompany her to town and I was thankful for her indulgence. It gave me an excuse to get out of the house, albeit with some conditions that needed to be met, and to me this was an opportunity— perhaps the only one I had— to see the world outside.

Once my appearance was groomed for the occasion, I put on a white cowl emblazoned with lace— just a small detail, seeing as Agnese believed that the regular design was too simplistic for her tastes. It was a tradition in our faith to wear head coverings outside, even more so when attending mass, as a way to demonstrate virtue and a sign of humbleness before our Lord and Savior.

Before leaving, I thought I would bid Agnese farewell if it was not much trouble— since she was busy with her visitors, I surmised she would not accompany us. I did not have the chance to greet her when I broke my fast, and I had no desire to appear ill-mannered to her lest she would feel affronted.

I had been told she was in her study room and that was the place where I headed to, hurrying to reach my destination so I would not give Nanna the chance to complain about my tardiness. But as soon as I managed to arrive there, I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of two knights standing guard at the doors. At that moment, I did not understand what was happening and their presence surely was not something that put me at ease, no matter how hard I tried to find a reasonable justification for it.

They took notice of me forthwith and, making certain of imparting a dignified impression to conceal my less than convenient gaucherie, I approached.

"Good morning, miss," they greeted with earnest deportment and I reciprocated their greetings. One them, the one of higher rank, spoke then, "what can we do for you?"

"I merely wished to speak with my mother. Is she… very occupied right now?" My reply was calm, but there was little I could do to hide the concern on my face and, surely, it was hard to miss. "Is something the matter, sir knight?"

The brown-eyed man smiled at me with politeness, though it did not make me feel any better. "No, of course not, miss. We are here to escort General Santos, so there's nothing you should be worried about. If you wish to speak with your lady mother, then allow us to announce your arrival first."

He signaled for his comrade to proceed and, with some hesitation, the other knight knocked on the door. No doubt the poor boy was intimidated, and I could not blame him when I heard Agnese's irritated voice. "Come in."

The young man turned the doorknob and walked in, puffing his chest and standing tall with hands pressed against his side. "Ma'am, sir, I apologize for the interruption but miss Osanna is here to see her mother."

At the mention of my name, Agnese changed her demeanor and I let out the breath I had unconsciously been holding for a while. "Oh, my daughter?"

"Yes, ma'am," the knight said rather awkwardly, and a pregnant silence followed.

"Well… what are you waiting for? Let her in at once!" Agnese urged with an irked tone, and I decided to allow myself entrance to avoid the fuss on her part. "Well, it is good to see you my child! Was there something you needed to tell me?"

"Good morning, mother; sir." I curtsied, like the good girl I was supposed to be, and used my softest voice to feign demure.

"Ahh, has little Anna come to see me?" Agnese's guest— a bearded old man— spoke with amusement, seated in one of the cozy armchairs of the study room.

His manner was decorous and sophisticated, as expected from the kind of people she would associate with. Actually, Sir Santos had been friend to our family during many years and an habitué of our house back when he was Supreme General of the Holy Knights. Although he had retired from office a few years ago, those of lower rank still addressed him as General out of courtesy and respect. It went without saying that Santos retained significant influence in the Order of the Sword and knew its workings like the back of his hand. Despite of the end of his formal activities, without doubt he was an important adherent and many knights admired him.

"It is a pleasant surprise to see you, sir, though I had no idea you were visiting today." With my best smile, I greeted him before recalling that Nanna was still waiting for me and we would be late for the ceremony. "I am very sorry to disturb but, given that I didn't have the opportunity to speak with my mother during breakfast, I thought it would be best to let her know that I'm leaving for the morn mass."

"Oh, my child, always so devoted and well-mannered!" Though I was supposed to feel pleased at the compliment, her comment embarrassed me. Mainly because I was nowhere near as devoted as she would believe me to be, and I never considered politeness should be praised— to me it was a quality of character that everyone should strive to develop, after all. "Fine, then. Who am I to oppose the call of the Savior to his children? I regret I cannot join you today but maybe on another occasion, my dear."

"Of course." Part of me could not help but rejoice at the idea that it would only be me and Nanna this time. However, I wore an expression of mild disappointment to disguise how I truly felt and curtsied one more time, imparting my best wishes before setting out.

* * *

Nanna was my chaperon to my trip into the business district, as my routine demanded it. We travelled by car in the company of our trusted chauffeur Ennio, like many other times, and while she happily chatted with me I found entertainment in the sight of forest and grass at the side of the road. Truth be told, I was not paying much attention to what she was telling me, and it was not my intention to ignore her, but I found it difficult to focus on her words when there were other thoughts drifting in my mind. However, my absent-minded attitude did not go unnoticed to her.

"You are worried about something," Nanna said as a matter-of-fact, and the suddenness of her statement caught me off guard. "What is it?"

How was I supposed to answer that question? I was not certain, but it was futile to lie at this point; she knew that I was acting strange and so it was best to tell her the truth, perhaps.

With a grimace, I gazed into her green eyes. "Nanna, be honest with me. Do you think there is something wrong with my sanity?"

She heaved a strenuous sigh and shifted with unease, making me lose a bit of hope at the way she was considering what to say at all. "Is this about that incident? Are you still thinking about it?"

Was I that easy to read? "It's just that—"

"If you say you saw someone, then I believe you."

"Do you _really_?" I arched an eyebrow and thinned my lips, sensing the frustration grow inside of me. Did she believe I was still a little girl who conformed with some empty words? "Nanna, don't try to make me feel better about this..."

"You doubt me after all these years? By the look of terror you had when I found you in the library, it was clear to me that your life was in danger. I'm not certain what happened to that man, and I will not attempt to understand it, but I believe it's time you put your mind at ease and let it go."

Things could never be so simple...

"What if he wasn't human? What if he was… a demon?" Somehow those questions escaped my lips before I could stop myself, and Nanna's expression turned weary all of a sudden.

"Anna," she began with a furrow of her brows, making me relent in my useless pursuits. "It's best we never know who or _what_ he was. I have a feeling nothing good will come out of this, so you should try to forget it ever happened. There has been enough tension as it is, with your mother nearly sending the whole house on a hopeless quest to find this intruder whom we haven't the slightest clue about, and you know how obstinate she is. For a moment I feared she would discharge the knight captain and, honestly, that would have been the least of his concerns when Agnese is involved."

"I feel so sorry to have put him between a rock and a hard place. I was scared, too, so that is why I couldn't remain silent knowing he was receiving unfair treatment. Mother tends to lack restraint when she perceives someone has wronged her."

"Well, I believe you did well to intervene in favor of Sir Vittorio. Considering that his wife just gave birth to a daughter..."

"Really? When?"

"Last week. His second child."

"Oh, I had no idea about that!" While I was not sure whether my contribution had made a substantial difference, at least it was a relief to know that I did not let Agnese go rampant with her temper. The fact that he still worked in our house was an indication that she had reconsidered her stance. "He must be very happy with his little girl. What did they name her?"

"It seems they have a penchant for choosing unique, and strange, names for their children. The eldest is Credo, and this one they named Kyrie Eleison."

" _I Believe_ and _Lord Have Mercy_. They sound like beautiful names to me— a veneration to Sparda. I see nothing wrong with that, considering the meaning of mine." I glanced at the window and my jaw dropped at what I saw, unable to contain my childlike excitement as I nearly pressed my nose against the cool glass. "Nanna, look over there; it's a fair!"

She scooted over towards me for a better visage and chuckled when she spotted the stalls and colorful flags waving in the soft morning breeze. "Ah, it's true. Our traditional fair that unofficially opens the Festival of the Sword. I'm sure many people will be interested in attending this year."

It dawned on me that I had almost forgotten about it, with all the commotion brewing in my heart. The Festival of the Sword, of course! It was a very important celebration in the community of Fortuna— the most important, actually— held in honor of our beloved Savior. Such was the magnitude of this festivity, and devotion to Sparda, that sometimes it lasted an entire month. However, its true core lay with the working-class people as opposed to those who belonged to the most privileged sectors. This meant I was not allowed to participate in these events, and Agnese had never been interested in what she believed to be 'peasant's folly'— where people danced to folk music, got inebriated, and ended up disturbing social order. My only experiences for this celebration every year involved a visit to the opera house and a vigil of prayers, as well as the gatherings that Agnese so graciously hosted or the ones we were invited to.

I had to admit I was curious about what other people did, and if it was as fun as I imagined it to be…

"Can we have a look around after the mass?" For some reason, I was feeling hopeful that Nanna would grant my wish.

She sighed and avoided my gaze. "Are we going to have this discussion every year? You know we can't go."

"What is it so bad about a fair? We're not doing anything wrong! Why would mother be so upset?"

"Agnese is adamant on you observing your schedule and she doesn't like the idea of her daughter roaming the streets. Don't forget you are a Serafini. There are people who could try harm you or use you to gain some benefit. Not to mention that we don't know what other dangers could be lurking around us!"

"But I wouldn't be alone. Please, Nanna?" I begged, in spite of her arguments, clasping my hands in front of my chest.

Still, the idea that someone would try to take me hostage and ask for a ransom— as she was implying— sounded ridiculous to me. Who in their right mind would do that, knowing the consequences that would follow? I had to admit she had a point regarding the presence of demons, which made me recall my apparent encounter with one; though being attacked in broad daylight was something that I had deemed unlikely, in my ignorance.

"No," she grumbled with a stern tone that hushed my weak complaint for good, as her eyes narrowed and her expression turned severe. "We shall not speak of this matter again. Understood?"

No matter how much I wanted to express my disagreement, the belief that my elders knew best restrained me and I did not insist. The dispute left me crestfallen and all throughout the mass I barely could bring myself to pronounce the litanies, after each petition of the preacher, or sing any praises. Perhaps my wishes were too puerile but to have been put down by Nanna, whom I loved deeply and sought for comfort, in such a manner had afflicted my spirits. Though I held no animosity— how could I resent her for a matter so trivial?— that was the first time I felt as though her siding with Agnese would one day become the very fault that my heart could not forgive.

My taciturn behavior was not something she could endure for much longer. This, I realized once the mass was over and we headed for the car waiting for us. It was then that she gently seized my shoulder and turned me to face her, earning my confusion.

"Do I have to bear with that sad face every year, too?" Nanna held my chin and smiled, regret in her gaze. "Forgive me if I was too harsh but I only do what your mother considers best."

"Of course," I muttered with a forced curl of my lips, eliciting a strenuous sigh from her.

"What am I going to do with you? I suppose you won't stop asking until you get a positive answer, no? Fine, then; it seems that I have no other choice but to concede just so I don't have to see you so morose." To be honest, I had not expected this turn of events but I was happy nonetheless. "We'll go there but our visit shall be brief. Do not forget you have obligations to attend today, and when I say we need to leave you will obey. Do we have an arrangement?"

"Most certainly," I chirped, my heart swelling with delight as I wrapped my arms around her. "Oh, thank you so much!"

"Alright, my little potato. I hope I won't regret this…"

" _Nanna_!"

* * *

This was a new and thrilling experience for me, in spite of the mundane overtones of my little escapade. For the first time in my life, I had the chance to stray a little from the routine I had observed during many years ever since I was a child. Though it was unpleasant to recall, I remembered that the one occasion I had walked the streets of Fortuna was during the funeral procession of my father, may he rest in peace. I was five years old back then, and certainly not as interested in the world around me when tragedy struck my life.

But I had no wish to linger on those memories; no, I wanted to savor this moment of freedom as I treaded alongside Nanna and my eyes roamed each stall exhibiting goods that were both produced in Fortuna and imported from abroad. She was particularly interested in some fabrics that she intended to order, so we could have more clothes tailored. On my part, I was too entertained by the various sights that surrounded me— the smells and sounds that drifted in the air. Oh, the colors and the lights that flooded this place— the cheerful voices of vendors as they promoted their wares in the market and the joyful music that played in the background.

As soon as the mass had ended, people headed towards the fair. Among the different colors of dresses and suits, white hoods predominated in the crowd. I had to say I did not like wearing one during the summers, but— fortunately— I never had the need to use it for too long, considering I did not leave the estate for extended periods of time. Still, that day I was more than willing to bear with the discomfort and make the most of this rare occasion.

"Nanna, look!" I pointed to some hairpins that I found particularly pretty, rather fascinated by them. How was it that I became interested in so trivial things all of a sudden, I did not know but I felt like a little girl all over again. A bit sheepish at my outburst, I grabbed Nanna's arm and pressed my cheek against her shoulder. "Can I have one?"

"Of course you can, little sparrow. Choose whichever you like."

There was one that caught my attention immediately— a turquoise and pink butterfly with black veins— and I took it in my hands, examining its patterns and lively colors. "I'll take this one, please."

Nanna paid for my new acquisition and though I insisted that I would return the money, she convinced me it was not necessary. After all, she received an allowance— which I was not permitted to administer— from my mother to care for my miscellaneous needs and whims. After I handed her the hairpin, she put it away in her purse and we continued on our merry way. But just as we started to leave that place Nanna bumped into someone and came to an abrupt stop, me running into her back at the same time. The woman whom we had happened to encounter gasped in shock, then apologized profusely to us before she stared at Nanna long and hard.

"Mrs. Bellini?" she called in a tentative voice, and Nanna's eyes brightened up in recognition.

"Mrs. Pace, what a pleasant surprise to see you here! Oh, I must congratulate you on the birth of your granddaughter! A child is always a blessing in the family," Nanna spoke with glee, much to the lady's contentment. I did not know her very well, but I vaguely recalled that she was the mother of Sir Vittorio's wife.

"Thank you very much! I must say that the whole family is ecstatic about Kyrie's birth and though my grandson seemed to be jealous of her, at first, as soon as he saw his little sister he swore to be the best brother in existence." Mrs. Pace looked at me and flustered slightly, placing a hand on her chest before curtsying. "Ah, forgive me, young miss; in my overwhelming joy, I nearly forgot my manners! It is good to see you on such a fine day."

I responded in kind, making no observation on what she perceived to be an act of incivility. "Thank you, ma'am. You too, as well."

Soon, to my dismay which I tried to conceal very deep inside, they both engaged in a rather lively conversation about children and marriage. What I wanted was to explore some more, but I feared that if I said something Nanna would scold me later. But there was no doubt that I did not find their chitchat very compelling. At my age, I did not have much interest in talking about such matters, if only because sharing my expectations was futile as I would have no saying in my eventual engagement. When cousins around my age asked me about it, in what was supposed to be a friendly exchange between young people, I did not know what to answer.

Perhaps it would be best not to bother them. I told Nanna that I would be within eyesight and went ahead, inspecting wood carvings and other craftworks, before my attention was drawn onto the cheers and music that surrounded a procession nearby. I could not deny that the situation intrigued me, when in the distance I spotted a veiled woman in a creamy dress riding a horse.

Was this a traditional wedding? I had never seen one before and my curiosity got the best of me. Even if I did not want to contemplate the idea of being married so soon myself, that did not mean I was unable to share the joy of others. Furthermore, this was not an event that I witnessed every day so I wanted to take this chance to see what it was all about.

Throwing a glance behind my shoulder, I found that Nanna was still talking with Mrs. Pace and it appeared as if our little stroll would not go any further than this. Intruding in their conversation like a spoiled child was out of question, but there was no harm in doing some exploration on my own, right? It was not too far away and I would return before she realized I was gone. Oh, the foolishness of youth...

My feet moved and I could not control them, despite I knew I was stepping beyond the limits of what Nanna considered safe for me. I wished she would have stopped me back then, but that day for some reason she seemed to be mighty entertained by her friend to notice my disappearance. If only I had stayed by her side perhaps none of the events that unfolded much later would have ever happened, and I would have happily conformed to the designs Agnese had for my life.

I made my way to the people, and stood on the tip of my toes to have a better view. The young bride paraded in front of us, and I could not help but think how beautiful and blissful she looked as her groom led the white mare by the reins. It was then that I wondered if I would feel a fraction of her joy when I was in her place.

"Hurray for the newlyweds!" a man shouted and, before long, others clapped and lauded at the couple. As for me, I decided to take my leave and return soon but my intent was thwarted by a sudden congregation that surrounded me without warning. At first, I did not understand what was happening but soon it sank into my mind that the distance between me and the fair was growing, and Nanna was nowhere to be seen. Where was she, for the love of the Savior?!

I called her name once and tried to wriggle my way out of the crowd, only to be dragged away by the procession. I called her name twice, but my voice was drowned amid the cheers and the music of a world unknown to me— a world that had become strange and scary when it dawned on me that I was alone.

* * *

After some time roaming the streets aimlessly, I reached the conclusion that I did not have the foggiest idea of where I was. The fact the business district was not that vast made it worse and, though I could have asked for directions, I was afraid to talk to strangers after everything Nanna had told me.

In my attempts to find her, I had strayed a little too far from my intended course and somehow reached the port. How did that happen was beyond me, but I had abandoned all hope of finding my way back and stayed in a calm spot at the quay. That seemed like a better option than walking around in circles, not to mention that my sense of direction was not the best here. Surely, being kept away from the outside world had its downsides and I was very aware in what a vulnerable position I was. However, I tried to act calm even when I was frantic with worry on the inside. The truth was, I did not wish to bring any sort of attention on me from other passersby so I pretended to be an ordinary girl that was simply enjoying the sun and the wind on her face.

I had been given some candy-coated almonds in a pretty pouch, a cute gift from the parents of the newlyweds to those who shared their joy. Since I did not have many distractions to occupy myself with, and I was feeling rather hungry after all the struggle and panic, I thought some food would relieve the anxiety that was gnawing at me as I watched some fishing vessels head into the open sea. Easier said than done, but I managed well for the first couple of minutes. All I had to do was waiting and, eventually, Nanna or someone from my house would find me and take me home; I would apologize for the inconvenience and never again make a senseless choice— that was, if Agnese still allowed me to visit town after this. She was not going to be pleased to learn that I had disobeyed her orders once more, I knew it.

If I were to live in seclusion, then I supposed there was no way to avoid the consequences. Nanna would not have it easy and I feared that Agnese would reprimand her, too.

Humming a tune to myself, I hoped that she would not be too angry at us. How long would I have to wait here, however? The idea of spending hours on my own in this place made me uneasy, but there was nothing I could do about it. It surprised me how much I wanted to be home, when I had been so excited at the prospect of going out. While this was not my idea of an enjoyable time, at least the experience was not turning out to be terrible so far. With the way Agnese and Nanna had described the world beyond our home, I would have expected to be robbed or hurt— a most misleading exaggeration that portrayed people as evil and made the knights look bad at their job.

I found myself growing more relaxed and appreciative of my surroundings rather than withdrawn and scared. I smelt the saline droplets in the wind and I pulled the hood down to let the breeze tousle my hair, closing my eyes as I felt a renewed peace of mind. The melody of the waves softly crashing against the dock with the distant cries of seagulls filled my ears, inviting me to lose myself in the simple beauty of this moment. And then I heard a beautiful song, a voice so sweet that sent my soul into a state of delightful trance. So captivating it was that I could not resist the impulse to approach the source, as though some unseen force compelled me to move.

Unable to control myself, I leaned against the rusted railing and gazed beneath. There was a distinct and strange glow inside the blue waters and, the more my eyes lingered on it the more my mind became fuzzy as all strength abandoned my body. Suddenly my energy had been drained and I felt as though I could sleep for a thousand years.

Before I had any chance to come to terms with the reality of my situation, the old railings gave in under my weight and I fell into my doom. No faster did I plunge into the sea than the harmonic tune that had captivated me earlier died. Instead, I heard the dreadful screech of a creature that was dragging me into the depths never to see the light again. Even if I screamed, no one would come to help me. My cries would drown, and my disappearance would go unnoticed; my memory would fade into a bleak night of mournful demise.

As futile as I knew it would be, however, I tried to fight against my predator— a natural instinct for any creature when its very existence was threatened. I felt appendages wrap around my arms and legs, so cold that they rendered my limbs numb and constricted my body painfully to the point I thought they would crush my frail bones. There was no way I could escape, no matter how much I struggled to break free— I was simply too weak to contend with the might of a demon that intended to make me its food.

To my dismay, I saw another being— a scaly blue monster with sharp teeth diving towards me. If I was not terrified enough, then the sight of that beast surely sent my already fragile sanity into an abyss of madness.

I was going to die. How ephemeral my existence had been. How insignificant we humans were before the might of these ancient creatures. Without a doubt, I should have died that day but I was given another chance— it just had not occurred to me the extent of this truth then. My descent into a world of shadows stopped, and I was free from the bonds that kept me prisoner to my fears. I saw the light above and extended my arms to it, hoping to find salvation before it was too late.

Air burned my lungs, like I was breathing for the very first time in my life. With rather violent coughs and rasps that almost left me unconscious, I expelled the water that I had swallowed and choked some more before lying limp on the ground. All of a sudden and none too gently, a hand seized my shoulder and turned me on my back. Every muscle in my body was afflicted by a wave of excruciating ache and I groaned when someone tapped my cheek with their hand, forcing me to open my eyes. The glare of the sun obscured the features of the person looming over me, and I struggled to even make out the tiniest detail, but I noticed the halo of silver that crowned their hair— pure and bright.

At that moment, still in a state of delirium, I thought maybe the Savior had returned to deliver me from evil. There was nothing to fear if he was with me; that was what I had always been told, at least.

I would come to learn how wrong my assumptions had been.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Well, it took me quite a while to update this fic. Hopefully readers haven't forgotten about it hehe. This happens because I have a bad habit of writing long chapters. Sorry about that! Also, in the next part, Vergil will definitely be introduced and some things you're probably questioning at the moment may start making sense. So, please, bear with me!_

 _I want to thank **Lucía** once more, for all the support, beautiful art she makes for me, and for getting my butt in gear to finish this chapter at once. She's been doing that for the past couple of years, so she's truly a godsend. __Thanks to **Alexandra** for the support and beautiful art, too! She really knows how to bribe me into writing more, and now she's making some comics based on scenes for this story (I wish I could show you the WIPs because they look amazing!). A precious cinnamon roll, I swear!_

 _Thanks to those who have reviewed, added to favorites and followed. Now onto the replies :D_

 _ **J:** Thanks for the helpful input! You really got me thinking whether I should use first or third person point of view in this story, and I decided the former would serve my purposes. You saved me a lot of trouble there, heh._

 _ **Amethyst-Phoenixx:** awww, you're very kind! It means a lot to me that you think this has the potential of becoming a good VergilxOC story! I will definitely do my best to ensure it meets your expectations and those of the readers who decide to give this fic a chance c:_

 _ **too lazy to think of a name:** Woah, that's a huge compliment you've got there! Though I'm certain there are more beautiful VergilxOC fics written by better authors than me, I appreciate the kind words. I didn't want Nero's mom to die so young so I chose to do something else with her. We'll see how that turns out c:_

 _ **Guest:** Oh my gosh! Wow, thank you so much! I never thought my story would make people feel this way but I have to say that I'm really happy. Thanks for giving me a chance, even though you have your doubts about OCs (I feel the same way, to be honest). Haha, yes, Nero's mom becomes Vicar of Sparda in this story since I wasn't to keen on the idea of her dying while giving birth to Nero, or being murdered by demons. Instead of those options, I thought I would choose another one and, after a long talk with my friend, we came up with the idea of Nero's mom as the head of the reformed order. _

_You're correct to assume that she's around the same age as Vergil so, yes, teenage romance (?). And I also think it would be hilarious if Nero's parents had met like that! Poor girl got the scare of her life lol. As for your other questions, everything will start making sense as the story progresses, so stay tuned for more!_

 _Thanks to everyone :D and, please, review!_


	4. Unexpected Meeting

Wow, it has been a while hasn't it? D: time flies by but I'm back with a continuation of the fic, at long last. You surely have realized that it takes me time to post stuff, but the good thing is that my chapters aren't short, so make yourself comfortable and be prepared for a lengthy read. I'm still trying to finish a lot of projects I have pending but… eh, gotta admit video games have been distracting me. Also, life gets in the way orz.

Replies are in the final notes because they're a chunk of text and you probably would like to read the story first :) thanks for the feedback, the faves, and the follows, beautiful people! Your support means a lot to me. Wanted to make special mention for **Rose of Poison Ivy** , **frozenseed** , **Guest** , **Loving this** , **MissDreamsALot** and the anon guest **Hmm**. Another special mention to my dear friends Lucia and Lala and thanks for reading my drafts, drawing art, and overall putting up with my inner fangirl ;u; love ya~

Feedback is appreciated, thank you!

* * *

 _Some of the themes and songs that inspired this chapter were_ _Beautiful Mirage (An Unexpected Visitor), from the MGSV TPP soundtrack; Roman Underworld, from the AC: Brotherhood OST; Fly Me To The Moon, performed by Doris Day; and The Godfather Waltz, performed by Henry Mancini and his orchestra._

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 **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. Slow burn. OCs. English is not my first language.

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 **Part III:** _Unexpected Meeting_

It was difficult to tell for how long I slept the restless slumber of those who wander between worlds. I was not certain of what had happened to me, either, though my mind vaguely recalled the coldness of blue waters and the shadow of fear that had gripped and almost crushed my soul. The memories were blurry, as though a veil had been draped over my eyes, and I could barely make sense of the bizarre images that lingered.

Amid those recollections was that of a faceless being, whose identity kept eluding me despite how much I strained to see. I simply could not, as the light that enveloped them was too incandescent and it always forced me to close my eyes tight. Perhaps one was not meant to see the gentle face of the Savior, I thought at that moment. Maybe it was too sacred for a mere mortal such as myself to behold, but I was content to be cradled in his arms like a small child so I did not protest or resist.

Though part of me argued that this vision I had conjured to allay my fears was too good to be true, another just wished to believe it was all real. A strange sense of peace had touched my soul and I allowed it to envelop me in its gentle wings, as I felt my body drift to a place far away— carried by the waves of time and space.

As my surroundings morphed into a familiar setting, all of sudden a memory resurfaced and came back to life right before my own eyes. I found myself inside a picture of the past, somehow; a little girl again, wearing colorful frilly dresses and ringlets with ribbons on my hair. But it was not the happiness of childhood that I was reliving with innocent zeal— days of reverie amid dolls, tea parties, and fairy tales. Instead I was standing by the door of my father's chambers, gazing upon his emaciated pale face as he lay immobile in bed. His grey eyes had rolled to the back of his skull, and his features drew a hideous grimace of fear that the rosy foam coming out of his mouth could not conceal. He had suffered before his death, and no one had been present to help him or even accompany him in his journey to the other side.

The baron had been ill for a long time, and nothing the doctor of our family did appeared to improve his unyielding condition. I was too young to understand, back then, that he was living on borrowed time. His last days, he was confined to bed and I kept him company during the afternoons after I was done with the lessons of my tutors.

He was an affectionate man, and I knew I had been happy by his side. Father had been the one who encouraged my imagination and allowed me to be just a child— allowed me to be myself above all things. He used to tell me stories before going to bed, and he always was patient with my endless questions on even the silliest topics I could think about. My curiosity, he once said, was something that one day would get me in trouble but he still humored me the way any loving father would.

Sooner rather than later, however, his health deteriorated despite our best expectations. He tried to hide his ailment from me, of course, but I sensed his suffering and noticed the changes in him. No longer the same man with a long life ahead of him, his complexion had become ash-colored— almost nearing a faint shade of blue— and his skin was most of the time covered in a layer of sweat. He was less alert to the world around him, as though he had little interest in it, and he stopped telling me stories when his shortness of breath became too much to bear. Then came the terrible coughing fits and the horror in his gaze when he saw the white handkerchief in his hand was stained with blood. After that disturbing event, I was not allowed to visit his chambers anymore. Those were Agnese's orders, supposedly for the reason that he needed his rest to get better. When I grew up, I chose to believe that maybe she wanted to spare me from the sight of my father in such a miserable state.

Being kept in the dark about this matter scared me, even more so when Agnese did not even attempt to approach and give me reassurance. I thought that maybe she needed space to deal with the situation on her own but, still, a word of comfort would have sufficed. Nanna tried to keep me content saying father would get well; however, she had only fed me false hopes that in the end withered my confident optimism, and I came to the harrowing realization that life was not a fairy tale where people got to live happily ever after. I had always thought that such a thing was possible, but it was only mere wishful thinking on my part.

That afternoon, I heard the commotion the maid had stirred when I was making my way to visit him— a crown of white and pink carnations in my hands. So simplistic was the mind of my old self, who actually believed she could cheer up an afflicted soul with such trivial gifts. Yet, despite this gullible mindset of mine, I knew he would have smiled at me and, maybe, I regretted not having seen that for a last time. Perhaps, deep down, I was only seeking reassurance in the face of the inevitable and, in my attempts to comfort him, it was me the one who wanted to be consoled.

I was not supposed to visit him in his condition but I really wanted to see my father, and if I pretended to nap then Nanna would leave me be for a while. Then I could take this opportunity to sneak out of my bedroom, unnoticed. If only I had known what would be waiting for me at the end of what I thought would be an adventurous fun trip.

The me from many years ago did not have the same fears or concerns so, in a manner of speaking, I was oblivious to this foreseen conclusion. Or maybe I knew it all along and, instead, preferred lying to myself for the simple reason I could not accept that my time with him was being stolen. But that day the blindfold on my eyes fell and I was forced to face the truth I had dreaded for so long.

Without a second to spare the woman had taken off running past me, screaming and wailing as she made haste down the corridor. Overwhelmed by an ever growing hysteria, she barely noticed my presence and I felt a chill on my skin at the deafening silence that lingered afterwards. I only heard the quiet shuffle of my footsteps and the sound of my own breath as I approached my destination, uncertainty and fear clouding my mind. And yet it was all clear to me when the sight that would haunt me many nights after that day left me paralyzed. My emotions were muddled and I could not bring myself to look away from him, in spite of my desperate wish to do so.

I could have stood there until the end of time, for all I knew, but at some point a hand gently squeezed my shoulder and someone called my name. Startled at the intrusion, I turned my head to the source of the voice and then I was gazing into Nanna's grieved face.

"Come with me, Anna," she said, above a whisper, and my heart ached when her eyes betrayed the promises she had made.

I flinched and gulped the lump in my throat. It did not matter what I said. Nothing could change the truth or what I felt, yet my mind kept denying it— refusing to accept the fact that father was gone, and I would never see him again.

"He is not breathing." The words left my lips in a hurtful reproach, and Nanna shook her head when I attempted to look at his lifeless body again. Holding my cheek, she forced me to divert my gaze away from such a wretched sight, but it was already burned into my memory despite her futile attempts to make me unsee or forget. Did she not understand this?

"No, don't," she pleaded, taking me in her arms and pressing my face against the crook of her neck. "For the love of the Savior, someone cover the baron's face!"

"With all due respect, Ms. Bellini, you should take her away. The knight captain and I need to handle this matter with utmost care in the face of this unfortunate event. The demise of a parent is not something that a child should witness, either way."

"You don't have to remind me of that, Dr. Leoni, but I do hope that you would at least have the sensitivity to speak about it in front of her."

"You're not protecting her by hiding the truth."

"And I presume you have quite a lot of expertise in that area, right?" Nanna's voice was dripping with derision, though I could not understand the reason of her animosity— not yet, at least.

"What are you trying to say? I'm warning you, Ms. Bellini, I will _not_ tolerate this offense on my personal and professional integrity!"

"Please, ma'am, doctor, this is not the time or the place to argue," said the knight captain in an effort to stop the altercation between Nanna and the doctor. "Let us not forget that, right now, we have a situation at hand that demands our immediate attention. Ma'am, I suggest that you take your leave with the young miss and refrain from interfering in our work, otherwise I shall have the knights remove you from this room. Believe me, it is not my wish to go to those lengths but I will have no other choice if you prove to be difficult."

Nanna's shoulders tensed and, for a long time, I wondered if her silence had meant to convey secrets that she did not dare speak. The answer to this question eluded me, and I never considered to pursue it any further as I grew up in the fake contentment that sheltered me from this reminiscence. Even if I had asked her about it, Nanna would have only told me that the past should remain where it belonged— that one should not try to understand it but to accept it happened and could not be changed.

If only it were that easy to leave it behind, then we would not be prisoners of the past. We would not be enslaved to our memories, in a desperate attempt to find meaning to our existence however small or ephemeral it was.

As Nanna carried me in her sturdy arms, she walked away without another word. At that moment, I crumbled under the weight of this overpowering turmoil that gripped viciously at my heart. It was a pain that made me sick in the soul, and the aftermath of this misfortune brought naught but sleepless nights and nightmares when I was forced into a state of slumber— trapped in a world of horrors with no way to escape.

"Where is the baroness?" Nanna asked, doing very little to conceal her frustration at that point.

"She is reunited with her guests at the moment, and I'm afraid she won't be available for some time," came the squeaky voice of one of the maids that had accompanied us. I could tell the young woman was distressed by the whole situation, as she struggled to keep an even tone in her voice. "We have already informed her of this… incident and she ordered we handle it with discretion."

Did she not care, at all? Her husband had just set forth on his journey to the afterlife and Agnese did not seem to be concerned about it. Was she not even the slightest affected at these news? I did not dwell on those thoughts, however, being too distraught by my own suffering and loss. That me was selfish and self-centered, believing her misfortunes were the most tragic mankind had ever seen.

The closest experience I had with death until then had been when my grandfather passed away. Therefore, mortality was not a concept strange to me and I possessed a basic understanding of our ultimate fates. While I did not actively seek to delve deeper into such topics, I had observed this undeniable truth in the smallest things of nature, even before I could reach a definitive conclusion. We were not meant to last, and it proved to be the greatest irony of life that left me baffled— being born just to perish.

Father had once explained that our existence was temporary, a flame that eventually faded, and we only were birds of passage in this world. There could not be death without having lived, and all that mattered was how we used the time that was given to us— how much we loved and the decisions we made regarding how we chose to live. This was what Sparda taught us, and so long as we were at peace with ourselves there was nothing to fear nor regret in the end.

Grandfather fell asleep one night and never woke up. I was told that the Savior had called upon him, to the Fields of the Blessed— a place where there was no suffering, illness or death. Seeing him with such a serene expression on his face, as he lay in his coffin during his funeral, made me believe that he was in a better place and it helped me accept his parting.

However, I was not so quick to find consolation when it was my father's turn to breathe his last.

Burying my tear-stained face on Nanna's shoulder, I asked her why did she lie to me if she knew that this would happen. Her silence spoke louder than words could ever have, as she carried me to my bedroom, and I cried that I hated her. My words were cruel, and I was certain that even after many years they still affected her— something I regretted— but I was unable to stop them.

The flower crown slipped from my hands and lay discarded on the floor, much like my hopes. In my ignorance and unwillingness to see reason, I had blamed others and opted to enclose myself inside a shell of resentment and self-pity. My heart had burned with anger at Sparda's inability to save someone I loved, not realizing that it was not his doing that I suffered neither was he to blame for the grievances that afflicted me.

He had already played his part in our salvation, bearing the heavy burden of a calamity our Great Sin had caused several millennia ago. When the kings of old and the greatest worshipers of evil, blinded by their mindless ambitions of power and a desire to live amongst their gods, sought to merge the human and demon realms, they released forces we were not prepared to face. They brought destruction and darkness to this world, new home to our demonic rulers, and we humans cried tears of blood.

Sparda could have left us all to die for our faults; after all, the wrath that poured from the heavens was of our own making. Anyone could have said that it was only fair our destiny should be to disappear, be erased from the memory of time, but he thought none of that. Even when he was a demon himself, a being we should all fear and hate, his ability to feel compassion and love for someone else was unique and unprecedented in his kind. His love and justice revealed the path to redemption in a long perilous journey, and we praised our father that came to our aid when we needed it the most.

The Savior had done too much for us, surrendered his home and made himself a traitor amongst his brethren— lived a life of endless battles to ensure humans thrived in a new era and that the terrible events of the past never transpired again. In his absence, we had to learn to bear the burden of our own struggles as we patiently waited for his return.

* * *

It was during a spring afternoon that father passed away. When the seeds that had been lying dormant beneath the earth sprouted after the freezing winter, the flowers bloomed and life flourished again, we had to bury him.

This was not something I wished to see. Why would my mind evoke reminiscences like these ? Instead of being trapped in these memories, I wanted to go back to that place of happiness that was my retreat as a child— a world of vivid colors and streams that glittered under a blue sky. My playground in dreams, I called it once, where I could be at peace.

However, it was not long before a drastic disruption of my serene and comforting musings sent me into a state of alienation, as I attuned myself to the voices of a world that seemed to be foreign— not part of me, and neither I a part of it. An angry voice clamored then, and my heart clenched at the panic that began to overwhelm me.

 _"How could you let this happen, Giovanna? I trusted you would take care of my daughter, that you would be with her at all times, and she nearly dies! Why did you take her to that fair? Why weren't you keeping an eye on her?"_

 _"Forgive me, my lady. I looked away for a second and, when I called for her, Anna had vanished without a trace! I couldn't find her anywhere, despite my best efforts."_

 _"Your failure is inexcusable, and you know it. If it was not for the fact that you looked after me when I was a child, I would have you kicked out of this house immediately!"_

It was Agnese's voice, without a shadow of a doubt, and I could practically see her fume with rage as she berated Nanna. I realized that it was my fault she was on the receiving end of Agnese's wrath though, for some reason, I still could not recall the events that had transpired and this only served to confuse me even more. The idea that I had almost died terrified me to the core of my soul, but I wondered if this was not merely an illusion meant to deceive me— another nightmare that tormented me without end.

The knight captain spoke.

 _"A young man happened to pass by and saved miss Osanna from drowning just in time, before we had to lament severe consequences. Would you not agree he deserves some kind of compensation, my lady? After all, he came to the rescue of your only child."_

 _"Who is this youth you speak about? Send for him at once. I would like to meet him personally. Let no one say that the baroness is not generous with those who gain her favor."_

Drowning…

Yes, I remembered the blue waters and the light of the sun above as I was dragged deeper and deeper into the darkness. Flashes of that desperate invaded my mind, and I could even recall the horror of long cold limbs around my body. I still heard the screeches and growls of a terrible monster that had lured me into its trap, with the sweetest voice I had ever heard in my life.

That morning I had lost my way home, and my wandering steps had taken me to the quay.

The images that played after what I considered would be my demise were still blurry, darkened, preventing me from seeing what had really happened. There was another monster, that much I could tell, but no trace of my supposed savior. They said he was a only young man, not our Lord as I had expected— wishful thinking on my part, I realized. Yet again, part of me feared that the insanity had returned and I was witnessing my mind falling to pieces. However, I knew better than to trust these visions, as they were not always a reliable reflection of the truth but, then again, what did they exactly mirror?

Thankfully, the voices faded and I was alone in my own little world. Beautiful flowers of a kind I had never seen before surrounded me, their fragrance fresh and enticing— even more so than the most expensive perfumes ladies used to wear during gatherings. Tall trees with warm-colored leaves provided shade, and a soft breeze played with my hair as I chased after butterflies that led my way. I followed the stream, listening to the songs of birds and the gentle gurgle of waters, until I reached a cascade.

But then my world of happiness turned dark and bleak before my eyes as the ground trembled under my feet. The trees died, the flowers withered and the waters were tinted in red, leaving only a wasteland where frozen winds blew. Their coldness hurt me, bit at my skin, and though I wrapped my arms around my body to retain some warmth, it did little to give me relief. I heard the skies roar and growl, then saw that their once vibrant blue had become a sickly shade of gray as a vortex of black corruption spiraled without end— tainting with its miasmatic essence what had once been a place of innocence and bliss.

I continued my journey, roaming a barren terrain of forgotten ruins without any destination or knowledge of where I was going. The words which could best describe this visage were, probably, valley of death. Yet it was not a typical picture where bones and skulls abounded, or serpents scurried away in search of prey. It was worse than that, in fact. Even in the most extreme deserts of the world some kind of life, however sparse it was, could thrive and be sustained. However, there was nothing here. Only endless desolation and the desperate howl of the winds.

Nothing could ever hope to survive in this place but, then again, none of this could be real.

It seemed to me that I had been roaming aimlessly for ages, without any rest, until a weak light shone in the distance. Without a second thought, I approached— already affected by the despondency and loneliness that permeated this vision. When I was close to a group of ruins, I distinguished what seemed to be a woman and her presence unsettled me as much as it surprised me. At a first glance, she appeared to be wearing black robes but on a closer inspection I noticed she was also covered in some kind of black butterflies— or moths, I was not sure. They flew around her, and I kept my distance as I debated whether I should talk to her or leave.

The torches that surrounded her were inverted and did not offer any warmth, as I had hoped. The woman was sitting all by herself, mourning her pain as she rocked an empty crib covered in dead flowers. Her sobs did not stop even as I neared and, though I should have feared her, deep inside I felt pity.

"Why do you weep, my lady?" I asked before I could ponder my actions any further, but something in me wished to ease her pain. "What have they have done to you to cause so much grief?"

Her laments ceased and the woman finally took notice of my presence, though she did not turn around. A pregnant silence followed and I began to doubt my choices, but then she replied with what appeared to be many voices all merged into a single one.

"Everything that I once loved was taken away from me. Now there is nothing left…"

"Who did this to you?" At my question, the woman— or illusion— hesitated for a moment.

"It was me." Her reply confused me. How could that be? "It is because of my sins that I suffer in this place. I did something unforgivable and, now, salvation is beyond my reach."

She faced me then, and I flinched at the darkness that was concealed beneath the black hood of her robes. There was an abyss of emptiness and sorrows, and her features were nonexistent.

"Begone, little one. There is no place for you here…"

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I had hoped to return to what I called— for a lack of a more appropriate term— the 'real' world. However, something was wrong. It took me a few seconds to get my bearings but, when I did, the first thing I noticed was that my bedroom looked very strange. Everything had been turned upside down and I could barely begin to comprehend what was going on when I saw poor Nanna sitting near my canopy bed, wiping her tears with a handkerchief. I tried to call for her but she would not listen and my situation started to make sense when I was confronted with the reason why she was so distraught.

Watching my body slumber made me wonder if I had always been this scrawny and pale. I looked as though I was on my deathbed and, for a moment, I feared that I was actually passing away. If that were to happen, then I would be trapped here in the other world with no way to return. With this concern in mind, I willed myself to descend until my feet touched the ground and tried to get back into my body but it remained unresponsive.

Another memory resurfaced, and I knew I had been in similar circumstances in the past. For this reason, I did not want to stay here for longer than was necessary but, no matter how hard I tried, I was unable to regain control of my corporeal frame. I wished I could wake up and tell Nanna that I was alright, if only to ease her suffering. After all, I was the one to blame for what had happened. If only I had done as I was told, then none of this would have happened in the first place. Many of my mistakes could have been prevented had I listened to my elders, but it is said experience is and will always be the best teacher in life. Learn something with pain and shame, and it is almost guaranteed that you will never forget it.

The sad truth is that, more often than not, people make choices well before their minds are prepared to impart a wise judgment. We always trust our decisions and believe they are for the best, or of little importance, but when time proves us wrong we realize that we are not ready to deal with the consequences of our actions. When I left Nanna's supervision that morning, I had unwittingly chosen a path that brought unforeseen repercussions in my life.

Approaching Nanna, I wrapped my arms around her and whispered in her ear that she had nothing to worry about— that I would soon get well and she would have the opportunity to nag me again for my imprudence. I said that I was sorry for making her cry and that I loved her. Soon enough she was fast asleep in the armchair, and I kissed her goodnight before curling in bed next to my body.

Perhaps I should have gone to visit Agnese that night, but I had no wish to see her. If she was still furious at what had transpired, then it was better to wait for her anger to subside. To be honest, maybe I feared to find whether she truly cared about me other than being an extension of herself, so I stayed in my bedroom. At least, I felt safer confined in those four walls and Nanna was with me.

I did not sleep and neither did I have the need to do it. Watching the moon in the sky until the sun rose was not as tedious or grueling as I imagined, but it was alright. My existence was not very exciting, to begin with, but I could not say I minded that much.

Time went by and I settled in a rather dull routine of watching myself sleep, odd as that sounded. On occasions, I saw the doctor check on my constitution and heard him comment on my progress. The worst had passed, apparently, and I should regain consciousness very soon. However, very soon, in my state, felt like an eternity and sometimes I was worried that I would never open my eyes— just like my grandfather.

The next day, I heard Agnese had visit and she seemed to be quite pleased with her guests. I had little idea of who they were, and neither could I be bothered to go downstairs. Surely, they were the same old gentry that came to see her often and bathed her in flattery to be in her good graces— nothing of particular interest to me, at least. Either way, I did not feel like leaving my room in this condition. Instead, I found entertainment in lounging in the settee by the window as I listened to the gossip of two unsuspecting maids. They were cleaning my bedroom while Nanna was away at the chapel, no doubt praying for my quick recovery. At first, I had not paid any attention to them but their constant chattering eventually piqued my interest, since I had nothing better to do.

"I can't believe it. Oh, he's such a handsome young man! Wait, that's not the appropriate word to describe him because he's not conventionally attractive, is he? When you look at him it's like… gazing upon a fine artwork. Beautiful and divine," the youngest one, an attractive brunette girl whom I recognized as Ofelia, said with a dreamy sigh.

"Indeed." Though not as enthusiastic as her friend, I could hear some eagerness in the woman's voice but then she frowned. "Too bad he doesn't seem to be very friendly and lacks the manners of a well-bred man. Did you see the way he glared at me when I served him coffee? I thought he was going to put me six feet under! That's not someone I'd like to be friends with."

Ofelia snorted and gave her a look of mockery. "That's only because you got too close to him. Do you even have any sense of personal space, Leila?"

"Well, I don't think that's a valid reason to look at me as if I had insulted his mother!" Leila complained, and Ofelia just shrugged her shoulders.

"At least he's a sight for sore eyes. Can't begin to tell you how much I'm looking forward to see more of him. My days should be more interesting now that he's here..."

The smile on her face was hard to miss and I arched an eyebrow at it. Just who were they talking about?

"I can agree on that but don't even think about flirting with him. He doesn't look like the type of man to be swayed by a mere flash of breasts or legs… unlike those knights you're used to allure into your bedroom."

I blushed at those words, then shook my head and tried to ignore what they had said. Despite what I had been taught to think about 'women of loose morals', it was none of my business what this girl did or stopped doing in her spare time.

"Aw, you're no fun. I was hoping to get a little smile from him, at least."

"I'm only trying to warn you, before you make a fool of yourself. Getting your hopes high won't do any good. Men like him are creatures only meant to be admired from a safe distance. Beneath a pretty face, there usually lies something ugly and I have the feeling he can be very cruel when he wants to be."

"But he came to the rescue of miss Osanna!"

So this was about _him..._

"True that, but I'd still tread carefully if I were you. Though I really doubt he'd be interested in a simple maid. I'm starting to wonder if he would even be interested in _anyone_ , at all."

"Oh, thanks for ruining my joy," Ofelia said, rolling her eyes, and put on a pensive facade. "Now that you mention it, I wonder if he... you know, has particular interests and preferences."

The suggestion in her tone was curious, and I admitted it was quite amusing to see them so engrossed in their conversation concerning my savior— whose identity remained a mystery to me, though I was not exactly in a hurry to meet him. After all, it was quite embarrassing being reminded of my mistakes, and how stupid I had been to wander away, when I had been told to be a good girl and obey. All that I knew about him was that he was supposed to be attractive— though I always believed beauty was in the eyes of the beholder—, and that he seemed to be surly in the company of others.

"And you want to know because…?"

"Well, he's not very warm with women and looks a bit out of his element around them… even withdrawn. Now why would that be?" I would not presume to be an expert in such matters, but I did not think her reasoning was following any logic. Maybe I completely missed the point. It did not matter anymore. "Or perhaps beneath that serious facade there's actually a closet pervert. You know what they say about the quiet ones. Wouldn't that be funny?"

Did she have to say that?

"You're overthinking this. I don't really care."

"Maybe you don't, but I do. Also I've noticed the lady seems to enjoy his company, despite his dour attitude." If it was true he was not very gifted in the ways of charm, then it was a wonder to me that Agnese could enjoy being in his company when she always craved honeyed words and deference from others. "Have you seen the look in her eyes? Do you think that she has taken—?"

" _Shh_ , keep your mouth shut!" Leila urged with a fierce whisper, a look of dread crossing her features all of a sudden. "Are you daft?"

"What? It's not like I'm speaking lies. We know well the business she likes to do—!"

"We don't speak about that! The lady's business is her own and you should know better than to bring it up. If she hears you bad-mouthing like that, you'll be selling backside in the streets faster than you can say 'ah'."

What exactly were they arguing about? I surmised that they might have been referring to the independent spirit of a businesswoman that Agnese possessed. After all, she owned a good portion of banking stocks and was proprietor of several important investments. Saying that Ofelia would have to resort to that kind of work had to be an exaggeration, but I knew that Agnese was not known for her kindness and compassion among her servants so they were terrified of their mistress.

"That's a little harsh, don't you think? Besides, who could possibly hear us?"

"What if the young miss does?" Leila looked at my direction— or the direction my body was, anyways. I snorted a little, trying to muffle my laughter whilst the woman eyed me with unease. What a surprise would it be if I told her that I listened to every word they had said. Probably not a good idea, however, lest I wanted people to spread rumors about me. Having them talk about the crazy daughter of the baroness was not something that would please Agnese, for sure. I did not want a repetition of past nightmares, either, and I knew I would not be treated kindly.

The two women argued some more and then left. Nanna appeared a while later and stayed with me, reading an epic to Sparda and his glorious feats. Another of his most popular depictions showed him as a dark knight wearing a horned helmet, mounted on his white horse as he fought against a huge dragon-like beast. It was one of my favorite tales, when he saved a young maiden that was offered as sacrifice to appease the old god.

As I waited for her to turn a page, I peeked over her shoulder and soon realized that she had fallen asleep again. With not much left to do, I returned to the settee and gazed at the stars of the night sky. When I was a child, I always tried to count them one by one but it was an impossible task that left me upset in the end— much to the amusement of my father.

There were occasions I missed those days when that was my greatest concern.

By the time the sun rose, I started feeling rather drowsy as my thoughts scattered and my vision faded. It seemed as if the world around me had vanished, and I was falling into the endless void.

When I woke up again, I was staring at the translucent white curtains of my bed. As the fog in my mind began to clear, and I came to realize that my stay in the other world had come to an end, a sudden pain afflicted my body when I tried to move. The room was still dark during the break of dawn, and it would have been silent had it not been for Nanna's constant snoring. At least she was by my side, so I could not complain about that.

"Nanna?" I groaned with a breathy whisper, hoping to get her attention. Another snore was my only response and, though I wished I could have spoken louder, my throat was parched and sore. My next course of action was to crawl just a little and extend my hand towards her, until my fingers grazed her thigh and feebly tugged at her dress.

That worked, for sure. She jumped from her seat and squealed, sending the book on her lap tumbling to the floor. At first she did not understand what was happening but, as soon as her eyes landed on me, Nanna breathed my name and practically threw her arms around my shoulders, kissing my forehead and cheeks.

"Oh, praised be merciful Sparda. He has heard my pleas!"

* * *

I had been unconscious for a few days after my near drowning experience. The doctor came to do some examinations on me, first thing in the morning, and I had been administered antibiotics along with painkillers for the headache. My prospect of recovery was, apparently, favorable given that I had not spent much time underwater. There would be a little discomfort the first days but that was to be expected, and the fuzziness should eventually go away, or so he assured.

Despite my protests and embarrassment, Nanna insisted on feeding me. I was perfectly capable of doing it myself but, even after all these years, she still had a hard time accepting that I was no longer her little girl. I had to admit that, in many ways, I was a silly child who thought herself to be smart and there was nothing more dangerous than a fool oblivious to their own ignorance.

"What… happened?" I was not sure if I could trust my own senses anymore, so I wanted a reliable account from someone else.

"Do you not remember?" she asked with concern.

"A little…" I assured with a nod, trying not to panic her. "But it's all a blur."

"We visited the church to attend the morning mass, and then you asked me if we could have a look around the fair. On our way, we met Mrs. Pace by chance and congratulated her on the birth of her granddaughter. After that, I lost sight of you for a moment and you disappeared. I was hoping you could explain to me what happened, Anna. You had me so worried I thought I would go insane."

Again, I remembered this had been all my fault and looked down, unable to hold her gaze because I was too ashamed. "I'm really sorry for what I did, Nanna. It wasn't my intention to cause so much trouble to everyone. I just got distracted with a wedding parade and, when I was about to return, a sudden crowd gathered around me and I couldn't find you. Then I was dragged away. In the confusion I got scared and didn't know what to do."

"The knights searched for you high and low. How is it that you ended up at the quay?"

"I'm not sure. I guess I got lost trying to find the way back on my own. I know I should have asked for directions, but I didn't feel confident enough to do so."

"Do you remember what happened after that? How did you fall into the sea?"

I had no plausible explanation for this. What was I supposed to say? That I had hallucinated voices and followed them? Perhaps it would have been easier to tell her that a demon had attacked me, but what if that was not the way things had transpired? Should I not be on the brink of death, then? How could anyone survive such an encounter? I was certain it would be the end of my existence, yet… it felt like it had been just a bad dream.

"I… I can't recall very well," I mumbled timidly, hoping Nanna would not see through my lie and how uncomfortable I was.

"Were you alone?"

"Yes, I was." At the awkward silence that followed, I could not help but ask, rather hesitant, "was mother… too harsh on you?"

"Agnese was only worried about you. What matters now is that you are safe and will recover soon." She sighed and gave me a tired smile, petting my hair. Despite my concerns, her words put me at ease. "I know it was the hand of the Savior that young Aeneas happened to be nearby—"

"Aeneas?" I did not know anyone who went by that name so, naturally, I was curious as to who she was talking about. "Is he—?"

"The one who helped you, indeed."

"And what did he say?"

"He said that you seemed to have felt unwell all of a sudden because you fainted and fell into the water. Apparently, the handrail was rusty and in a bad shape so it gave under your weight when you leaned against it. Is that what happened, Anna?"

There was no demon attack, then. It had been a figment of my imagination. No matter how real it felt, it was nothing more than an illusion of my mind. Was I even awake or was this just another dream? The idea terrified me.

"Anna?"

Seeing no other escape, I nodded. "Yes. It all came to me now. I was not feeling very well."

She did not look very convinced but the questioning stopped— for a while, at least. No doubt I would have to give the knight captain an account of the events, so he could make a report on it for the record. Then we would move on and forget about this, for which I was grateful. To be honest, I could not wait for that to happen. After the embarrassment of the party, I was sure people believed me to be the girl who cried wolf.

But I could never imagine the wolf was closer than I thought.

I knew Nanna was worried about me, and she felt guilty for having let me out of her sight. Agnese had been furious at first— a reaction that was expected from her— but, somehow, her wrath had subsided and, though I could not understand why, I was glad that she was in a better mood.

One afternoon, when Dr. Leoni came to see how I was faring in my convalescence, I told Nanna that I wanted to go to the gardens. She did not take long to try and make me desist.

"Are you sure you're feeling well to do that? You should rest some more."

"I am not dying," I replied with annoyance, before giving her an apologetic look. The day was warmer than I would have liked, and the heat was bothering me despite the ceiling fan spinning above. "Sorry. I would like to breathe some fresh air, that is all."

What I meant was that I wanted to get out of this room.

"Alright, but it depends on what the doctor recommends." Her words were curt as she spoke. For reasons unknown to me, I always felt tension between Nanna and Leoni whenever they were in the same room— something that made me anxious. I asked Nanna about it on another opportunity but she told me that I was reading too much into it, and there was absolutely nothing wrong.

"You may go, yes, but don't be long. Otherwise, we're going to have a problem, young lady." The smile he gave me was a little unnerving, but I agreed to do as he said.

However, I needed a shower before anything. My first apparition could not be in this unpresentable state and, when I was done, Nanna made sure that I looked my best. Thankfully I was spared the torture of corsets and, instead, was allowed to wear a simple chiffon dress.

"Oh, by the way, here's the hairpin you bought the other day. Would you like to wear it?" Nanna asked once she had styled my hair in a braided low bun.

I looked at the colorful butterfly in her hand and forced myself to smile. "Yes, please."

"There…" She fastened the pin on my tresses and placed her hands on my shoulders, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. "All done, little sparrow. Now let us go outside."

"Hopefully mother won't mind that I want to take a little stroll."

"I don't think she will." There was some uncertainty and awkwardness in her voice but she quickly composed herself. "Don't worry. If Agnese is not pleased, we'll tell her that the doctor gave you permission."

We headed downstairs and, by the time we were midway, Nanna began to wish my bedroom was not at the top floor. She still had some pain in her joints and bones, so we had to make a few stops for her to rest. It made me feel guilty for having put her in so much distress during the past days, and I decided she would retire to her bedroom earlier that evening. The idea of Nanna exerting herself was not something I liked, so we would just sit in the gardens and have some refreshments. I had a mighty craving for something sweet.

As we reached the bottom of the stairs, the sound of Agnese's laughter caught my attention and I was drawn to it— curious as to what was the cause of such manifest glee. But before I could take another step, Nanna held my arm and stopped me.

"What's wrong?" I asked her, confused, but she only gave me a worried look and shook her head.

"We should probably be on our way and not bother your mother. She's busy at the moment with a guest."

I considered her advice, but this was Agnese who we were talking about. "Would it not be better to let her know I am not in bed? I don't think mother will appreciate being ignored. Besides, I haven't been the most obedient child as of late, and it would be best to make amends after what happened."

Despite her protests, I approached the sitting room from where Agnese's voice came. The door was ajar, and I took this chance to catch a glimpse inside. Agnese was sitting in a sofa with the biggest smile on her face, something that struck me as odd. I also noticed she was in the company of a man, but I could not see him very clearly from where I stood. His back was to me; however, I could distinguish that he was of old age due to his white hair. Though I had little idea of who he could be, it did not escape my attention how pleased Agnese appeared to be.

As I tried to decide what to do, it dawned on me that my presence had not gone unnoticed.

"Osanna?" called Agnese, startling me. Given the confounded expression she wore, she was not expecting to see me but I could not detect any signs of upset coming from her. Throwing a glance at Nanna, in an attempt to call for her aid, she nodded and encouraged me to go forth.

"I'll be waiting for you, little potato," came her whisper.

I snorted under my breath, trying to muffle my laughter, but pretended to be irked and glared at Nanna for calling me that. This, of course, made Agnese arch an inquisitive eyebrow at me and I cleared my throat with awkwardness before stepping inside.

"Good afternoon, mother." It was embarrassing enough to be caught eavesdropping— even though I did not hear much of their conversation. Running away would make me look even worse.

"What a pleasant surprise!" As she fiddled with the fan in her hands, I could not help but take in the slight flush on her cheeks. Looking back, perhaps I was the only person who believed it might have been the heat of summer affecting her. "Should you not be in bed, my dear?"

"I wanted… to go outside and the doctor gave me permission."

"Oh, is that so? Well, it doesn't matter either way. Come here, my child." She extended her hand in my direction and beckoned me to draw near. "Since you're here, I would like you to meet a very special guest."

I did as I was told and approached Agnese with uncertainty, my gaze drifting to said visitor in the room. When I entered his line of vision, the man turned his head slightly to observe me from his seat and then I stopped dead in my tracks— breath catching in my throat when I had the chance to behold his countenance for the first time. My initial assumptions had been wrong all along, for he was not an elder as I had thought. On the contrary, he could not be a day over his twenties despite the unusual color of his hair.

No doubt he was the young man Ofelia and Leila were talking about. For a moment I was taken aback, due to my unexpected findings, but I composed myself— though uneasiness still churned in my stomach.

Once I stood by her side, I was able to have a better look at his features. They were sharp but not harsh to the eye, sporting high cheekbones with a strong jaw. His hair was styled in a slicked back fashion, giving him a more mature air as it accentuated his serious expression. It probably made him look older than he was.

"This is my beloved daughter, Osanna," Agnese spoke, holding my hand in hers whilst petting my hair— to my utter confusion. This was not her usual behavior with me, but I would not question her actions or contradict her. In truth, it made me happy that she cared and in return I offered a tiny smile, knowing that she was not mad at me despite my error in judgment. "This is Aeneas, my dear; the man who had the kindness to see to your safe return. I know you've already met, in rather dire circumstances… unfortunately. However, I thank the Savior that he was there to deliver you from certain death."

My gaze met his, as Agnese went on her speech. To me it appeared as if neither of us was paying attention to what she was saying, but it was most likely me whose mind was wandering away into those blue eyes that scrutinized me with unknown intent.

I knew it was rude to stare at other people, but it was difficult to look away from him. Of course, he was extremely attractive— to deny it would have been a lie— but something in the back of my mind had begun to bother me at that moment. There was this certain familiarity about him that perplexed me, though I had no idea why could that be. Maybe I was just confused after all these unusual events...

The bags under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights. For all his beauty, his gaze told me that on the inside he was wearied and there was an aura of danger and gloom surrounding him. He definitely was not the type of person I imagined would rush to the rescue of someone in need, but I did not dare make any more assumptions on a complete stranger. From the way he regarded me, however, I had an inkling that this man held some sort of grudge against me. It was impossible for me to explain why I felt that way, for I had never seen him in my entire life, but I perceived hidden hostility coming from him in the way his chiseled aquiline nose scrunched ever so slightly and his lips thinned at the sight of me.

"For a mother, her children are her most precious treasure and I am forever indebted to you for what you've done." Turning to me, Agnese gave me an expectant look and her words startled me into embarrassment. "Osanna, why are you standing there like a scared hare? Be a good girl and thank him properly."

I wished Nanna was there to guide me, so I would not feel lost. Unsure of how to proceed, I took some hesitant steps towards Aeneas until I was at a close but safe distance from him. To be honest, I was wary of this man and remembered what the maids had said about him not being very warm with others. Most certainly he was not one to be keen on pleasantries, and I wondered why Agnese was so zealous in the first place.

Doing as she commanded, I curtsied rather rigidly in an effort not to appear uncouth while avoiding to look at him. "You have my sincerest gratitude, sir. I will never forget what you did for me."

Well, that did not sound very sincere for sure.

Aeneas reciprocated with the enthusiasm of a rock, though I was not much jolly to begin with. A curt nod with a grunt was all he offered, and I made no further attempts to speak as I glanced at Agnese— uncertain what to make of him. It was a little difficult to decide whether Aeneas was by any chance socially awkward, or rudeness was an elemental part of his character. Either way, Agnese was charmed and she barely paid any attention to his lack of etiquette or she did not care.

Despite everything, I understood she was smitten by his fair looks but something about Aeneas made me uneasy and I sensed ill-intent coming from him. I tried not to judge him all too soon, however. Perhaps he was shy and unsure of how to act around strangers, much like I was.

"I do not think I can ever repay such handsome generosity on your part but, if you will allow me, I shall make sure that your deeds won't go without compensation." Opening her fan, she waved it about while giving him a coy smile. "Please, stay in our home for as long as you wish. You're my guest of honor, and it would be a pleasure to be in your company."

My eyes widened to the size of saucers at her words. I could not believe what I had just heard. Was she serious about asking this man to stay with us?! Agnese had been so concerned about the security of the estate not long ago, yet all of a sudden she intended to house a complete stranger? I did not understand what had driven her to make that decision. Without a doubt she was grateful that he saved her only daughter, but this seemed to be a little too much. What could we possibly know about this Aeneas man? Who knew what intentions did he have or what kind of person he was.

There was definitively something uncanny about him; I felt it in my gut, but I could not come up with a reasonable explanation for that. His presence troubled me and, though I wanted to believe it was my mind playing tricks on me again, I was not so sure. For some motive I was unaware of, he did not like me but I did not trust him in return.

Father used to say that life was a box full of surprises, and it was at that moment that I found truth in his words.

What I failed to realize, however, was that I had inadvertently opened Pandora's box.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** This was a really long chapter! I seem to go overboard with details and stuff orz._

 _As you already know, I chose the name Aeneas (pronounced iˈniːəs) as an alias for Vergil. I don't believe he would reveal his true name to people he doesn't really know, nor it is necessary. Why Aeneas? It's the name of the mythical Trojan hero and protagonist of the Aeneid, written by the poet Virgil, so I thought it would be fitting. Also, I love the name. I believe it means "praiseworthy" but I've also read another of its meanings is "terrible grief"._

 _In the beginning, I was tempted to name Nero's mom Elissa, (another name for Dido, the founder and Queen of Carthage, who was Aeneas's lover too) but in the Aeneid she ends up committing suicide when he abandons her to fulfill his destiny and… nope. Not what I wanted to convey._

 _Yes, the briefly-mentioned tale of Sparda and the maiden was taken from the legend of Saint George and the dragon._

 _Now, onto the replies ;u;_

 _ **Rose of Poison Ivy:** Oh mah gawd, wow! Those are such powerful and amazing compliments you got there o/o thank you!_

 _So you think Anna's a threat to Vergil? We'll see how that turns out huehue. But oh gosh you're making me blush so much, guuuurrrl. You're so sweet and asdjsjsskedfjsjfjs pls let me give you a thousand cookies and hugs. I'll have you know Anna is a silly girl, though she likes to think she's level-headed. And Vergil is just a brat who thinks no one can compare to him... so he ended up being fooled by Arkham because of his overconfidence. They're just a pair of babies who went on to have another baby._

 _Yea, background is important to me xD I think sometimes I get sidetracked with details but I'm doing my best orz and that's great you can relate your OC to her ;u; and awwww STAHP I'M GOING TO CREEEEYY. Reading this review makes my day all over again because I'm so happy that people are so appreciative of my work._

 _This isn't my first DMC story, by the way. Please, ignore that reboot fic lol it's not very good but I kept it online for… reasons. I actually wrote several DMC fics in the past but ended up taking them down because they sucked. You're not missing out on anything special, trust me._

 _ **frozenseed:** It will end tragically because I already gave the ending away with Gratia dying orz but there should be plenty of fun moments, too. At least that's what I'm planning c: aww, you! Thank you so much ;u; I hope you're still reading the story._

 _ **Loving this:** Ooh, hello, Anna! Wow, I'm truly happy you're enjoying the fic and that you can relate to the main character. I'm updating a little late but… better late than never, no?_

 _ **Guest:** Ayyyy, people getting excited over my updates. That's the best feeling in the world, yasss! And your family sounds like mine lmao._

 _Well, details are important no? At least they are to me though I have to admit that sometimes I don't know when to stop. About Agnese… suffice it to say that she's not the kind of mother you'd want to have xD_

 _Anna is right about Vergil but, sadly, she doesn't know it and he's freaking rude and trash but I still love him. Oh, sure! A very happy coincidence xD and I was a little bothered too that the Festival of the Sword seemed to be such a casual celebration in the game, but maybe it wasn't that important for the story._

 _He'd probably be annoyed at these people but, then again, everything annoys him. Also in Deadly Fortune he seemed to imply that people should worship him instead of his father because he was going to be greater than Sparda— or that's what I read in the novel summary, at least. Apparently, this is what Vergil told Sanctus when they met by chance:_

 ** _"I don't mind that you pray to Sparda as a god, but do think clearly of this. One day I will surpass that god and, when that time comes, who will you worship? The one that was once god or the son who exceeded him?"_**

 _Talk about being a megalomaniac lol._

 _You're right. He didn't save her because he's a good fella. Vergil has ulterior motives because he's not the type of man to do something for others simply out of kindness. I hope this chapter has answered some questions ;u;_

 _ **MissDreamsALot:** Thank you very much! I still blush whenever people tell me I'm a good writer. Hope you enjoyed this update._

 _ **Hmm:** I totally understand where you're coming from c: despite I love writing stories with OCs, I have to admit that sometimes I run away from those stories. I don't read a lot of fanfiction nowadays, though orz. Yeah, I too get annoyed when Vergil (or canon characters in general) are automatically in love with the OC at first sight and I'm a little tired of that._

 _I hope the fic is to your liking :D I know it's not perfect and has its flaws, but I'm trying my best to make something good. Not sure about the destined mates cliché, but I can assure you that Vergil and Osanna are not that kind of thing lol._


	5. Dejá Vu

Another chapter out, and sooner than I thought! The only explanation for this miracle is that I must be... *insert Vergil voice clip here* _MOTIVATED_! Ok, sorry. Sometimes I like to think I'm funny. Just pretend I never said that, alright? I'm embarrassed right now.

This chapter was turning out to be much, much longer than intended so I had to split it in two parts. Otherwise it would have had an insane length and, also, I felt the need to post something soon. No worries, that this one is about 10,000+ words so you'll have a lot to read. Me and my bad habit of writing long a** fics, as of late.

I have things planned for this story-line. Well, I hope I can fit all these ideas in here anyways. Yes, there will be some expected twists and turns (a salty Vergil, too, for good measure so he's as IC as possible throughout the whole thing) but there will also be plot twists— or I pray that's your impression, at least!

As I already mentioned, it's going to be a slowburn Vergil x OC because… this is Vergil we're talking about. A relationship with some human girl (or anyone, for that matter) is the last thing on his mind, but not to fret because stuff will happen in the meantime till we get there.

Is there Vergil/Aeneas in this chapter? Yes, of course, so be prepared (lol).

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A special shout-out to **JosephFrost** , **Ashy** , **Lila** , **Cryocene** and **Amethyst-Phoenixx** and **sailorangelmoon1**! Thanks for the encouraging reviews, you beautiful people. Your feedback is very appreciated, and it makes me really happy that the story is to your liking. I'm grateful for the positive reception MoS is getting so far. Seriously, it means the world to me when readers drop me some lines and tell me how much they're enjoying what I write. Forgive me for all the cheesiness in this note, but I had to say it c:

Thanks to those who have added this fic to favorites and alerts. Hope to hear from you, too, if you feel like leaving a review. I don't bite, so don't be shy! ;u;

Last but not least, I want to make a special mention of my friends **Lucia** and **Lala,** who help me endlessly and put up with me throughout the whole writing process— you don't want to see me in that state, I kid you not. They are a blessing in my life ;A;

Replies are at the end of the story. Xoxo!

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 **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. English is not my native language. OCs. Slow burn fic. Vergil is a jerk but we already knew that ;)

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 **Part IV:** _Dejá Vu_

That evening we retired to Nanna's chambers, at my insistence that she needed her rest. After all the distress she had gone through, because of my careless actions, I wanted to ensure that she did not exert herself any further than she already had.

At first, she tried to argue and convince me that her health was in perfect condition but, as the obstinate girl that I could be sometimes, I stood firm in my decision. Nanna knew very well that I would not concede and, though I did not approve of emotional blackmail to get what I wanted, I had to threaten that we would not be in good terms if she kept neglecting herself. In the end she had to do as I said, so I ushered her to her bedroom to make sure that I would not be fooled.

Nanna was still worried about me, true, but I was not on the brink of death— neither was my constitution so fragile to merit her restless nights. I surmised this was a consequence of the remorse she felt after father passed away, but I could not blame her for what she had done. How were you supposed to tell a child that her parent was dying and would no longer be part of this world? How could she have even said something about it, when Agnese wanted to keep me in the dark? For better or for worse, I always believed that Nanna's choices— as erroneous as some of them were, and in spite of how much they hurt me— were made with my best interests in mind.

It was nothing new that she made a fuss when it came to my well-being. This trait was merely a part of her character and, while it never bothered me too much, at times I wished Nanna would be a little more careful. She was getting older with each passing day, and her strength was waning. While it appeared to have escaped Agnese's notice, it did not mine and I knew how tired Nanna had become in the past years. Perhaps after I had married, and left this house to form a family of my own, she would decide to retire— at long last— and spend her last days enjoying the fruits of her labor.

Sweet Nanna deserved that, at the very least. With no children of her own, I worried how she would fare after I was gone to live with my future husband— whom I had no idea who could he be. In my situation, Agnese had not arranged for an engagement... yet. It was not hard to guess she was speculating as to who would be the better choice, in accordance to her interests. At that point, I only hoped to find him agreeable when our families reached a compromise.

As it was, my old nanny had been under the service of this family for a long time— even more important, she had dedicated her whole life to Agnese and I without question or complaints. If only my lady mother could have seen the extent of Nanna's love and be more appreciative of what she had sacrificed for her sake. But, maybe, that is a story better suited for another occasion.

Our stay in the gardens had improved my mood considerably, in spite of the troubled emotions that lingered after my unexpected meeting with Aeneas. While I made no mention of his presence, neither did I attempt to find more about him, just then, thoughts of this stranger had already begun to occupy my mind— although not for the nicest reasons.

Of course, as the rumors had rightfully said, Aeneas was a man of incomparable beauty. Added a dose of mystery and aloofness to the mixture, it was a sure way to catch the attention of those around him— if not, enthrall their hearts. If I were to be honest, no man or woman I knew could have ever hoped to compete with him in such unfair terms. There was a certain magnetism to his appearance that would compel anyone to stay a little longer, and behold his fair countenance. Nonetheless, he had an aura of hostility that warned others to stay away— something dark that disturbed my soul deep inside.

And I did not like it in the slightest.

Nanna and I sat under the shade of a gazebo, surrounded by flower beds of varied layouts and colors. Agnese was very fond of beautiful gardens and had not given it a second thought in spending a fortune on them, for her personal delight. Even I, as uninterested as I was in her life pursuits, had to agree that it was an exquisite sight to lay eyes on.

This was a place that I always frequented and the amenable environs, more often than not, made me lose track of time. Contemplation and daydream were sure to ensnare me in the gentle caress of the floral breeze and the sweet songs of birds. The murmur of clear waters, spraying and pooling inside ponds covered in turquoise tiles, comforted me as I basked in the joy of this slice of heaven. To me, this was the closest I would ever get to paradise on Earth, and if it was anything like the Fields of the Blessed then I hoped father was happy on the other side.

But while I dearly tried to find respite that afternoon, my mind refused to be indulging.

Dinner greeted us with the company of Aeneas, but I did not participate. Instead, I retired for the night— since I was supposed to be in bed, by then— and ate with Nanna in my bedroom. When we were done, she intended to put me into bed but I was having none of that. This time, I had to be the one looking after her.

I offered to massage her swollen legs and joints, with an ointment meant to ease her discomfort and improve the circulation of blood. She opposed at first but I convinced her to let me help.

As for me, I did not mind doing these favors for Nanna. In fact, it was the least I could do to thank her for all the care and affection she had given me. Nanna was a motherly figure to me, maybe even more so than Agnese had ever been in all those years. If there was someone who showed me warmth and love when father was gone, and stayed by my side despite the resentment I held, it was her.

Agnese lived in her own world, but I tried to be understanding regardless of my disappointment.

If the baroness had known about this, she would not have let me hear the end of it. Her daughter doing something so lowly, as touching the feet of a mere servant, was unthinkable. Even if it happened the be the woman who had changed her diapers, and endured her endless tantrums, when Agnese was a capricious little girl— eating dirt, slobbering on her first and, in general, craving for the attention of those around her.

Oh, yes, I knew all too well about those childhood episodes, but Agnese liked to believe she had always been a graceful white dove. It was something I found funny, though Nanna had made me swear that I would never bring up the subject in her presence. Not a single mention about the embarrassment of Agnese's infancy should ever leave my lips.

Thank the Savior, my nanny did not have to put up with those kinds of situations anymore. Neither with the imp I used to be, though Nanna once assured she would have preferred that I stayed a baby girl. When children are small and innocent, life and its problems are much simpler but as they grow up the challenges become more grueling to face.

I underestimated those words, back then.

"I don't know, Nanna." Eyeing the manual on reflexology techniques, lying by my side, I gently rubbed a certain spot on the sole of her feet with my thumbs. "That man… there's something about him that tells me he's not to be trusted. I'm not sure how to explain it, but I do not like him and I'm worried that mother has offered him to stay with us."

Even if he had ill intent, it was unlikely he could do something against anyone living in this house, with the knights guarding our well-being. While it was not an absolute safeguard, given the bizarre encounter I experienced with the cloaked stranger— though that was actually debatable, in the absence of concrete evidence and the implication of my apparent delirium— at least it should have provided some peace of mind.

However, it did not.

"Anna, you're doing it again…"

Even before looking at her, I could sense the disapproving look she was sending my way.

"Doing what?" Pausing in my reflections, and in the task at hand, I met her gaze— oh, was I right about that furrow of her brows— unsure as to what she meant.

"Worrying too much. I swear that, by the time you reach thirty, your head is going to be all covered in gray hair. Why must you insist on finding something to stress about?"

I huffed and crossed my arms, in disbelief at her words. "You cannot tell me you're not even a bit bothered by this! A stranger in our house… who knows what could happen? I understand that he did a very noble deed for me, and that mother is grateful, but who's to say that he does not have other intentions?"

Nanna tried to dismiss my concerns, maybe in an effort to make me forget such matters and be at ease. "Ah, you are getting too anxious over nothing. I'm sure that everything will be fine, you'll see. Either way, there's not much we can do, Anna. Your mother already seems to be… fond of that young man, and she has her reasons to feel this way. Besides, I do not believe Aeneas will be staying for very long." She made a face that spoke of discomforts and doubts that did nothing to appease my fears, however. "Or that is what I hope, at least..."

"You say that she has taken a liking to him..." I arched an eyebrow at her. "A man she barely knows?"

Nanna only gazed at me with guilt etched on her face, before hurrying to reply. "Well, it was to be expected. He saved _you_ , her only daughter. Would you not be grateful if you were in her place? What if you had died back there? Oh, by the mercy of the great Sparda, I don't want to think what would have happened…"

"Yes, I am aware of that but why would she allow him to stay? Does he not have somewhere else to go— _something_ to do?"

Her chuckle made me frown, whilst I observed a mischievous smile play on her lips. "And here I was fretting you might find that young man a little too pleasant to look at… like some of the girls in this household. I though that you would be infatuated with him at first sight but, instead, you're in a hurry for him to leave!"

My eyes widened at the lone suggestion that I could like him in that sense. Of course I did not blame those women for taking a fancy on Aeneas, but that was not the point of this conversation!

"Nanna, do not jest with me. I am serious about this."

She cleared her throat and regarded me with earnestness. "Alright, forgive me for that. As for Aeneas, I heard that he's come from America. That is why your mother offered him abode in this house."

"America?!" I squealed in surprise, unable to control my outburst at her revelation. Nanna made a hushing sound and, realizing my mistake, I mumbled an embarrassed apology. After I found composure, I spoke with demure, "but that's beyond a huge ocean, on the other side of the world! What reason could he have to be here?"

Our island was not much of an interesting destination for travelers, although foreigners were not unheard of. Fortuna was a close-knit community that had endeavored to preserve its customs, and traditions, throughout the generations. Therefore, it did not allow many influences of the outside world that could threaten the identity and hegemony of its culture. However, this did not mean that tourism was not an occurrence from time to time, but it was still a small market in development. With the stories and rumors that had spread about this place, many tried to steer clear from us.

In a way it seemed we were an oddity to the rest of the world, more or less— not to mention an outrage for other religions that had tried to destroy our beliefs in the past. There were people that still considered us to be some kind of demented cult that made human sacrifices in honor of our demon overlords. A most ridiculous notion born from ignorance and misinformation, it went without saying.

Times change and we, humans, are forced to play along with the designs of Lady Fortune— who decides the fates of entire civilizations on her wheel— as we always have. But there is no luck, whether good or bad, that lasts an eternity and one should be hopeful as well as careful to remember that.

It was with the spread of modernism, as ironical as it sounded for a traditional society such as ours, that we saw an opportunity for progress. A chance to trade a world trapped in years of fear, and obscurity, for a better tomorrow. So in the light of these absurd tales that others enjoyed to concoct in vivid detail, we, Fortunians, aimed to cleanse our reputation and, for this reason, opened the doors to our home. It was to show others that our community was civilized and hospitable. We had learned to thrive in peace, despite a history of violence, and were willing to cultivate relations with other states, in order to favor trade and the betterment of the economy for all parties involved.

"It would have been rude to send him away without any kind of courtesy or compensation. This is a mere formality, and a polite gesture that Agnese wishes to bestow upon him. I do not see why you're so against it."

She was right for the most part. If only I could be more precise with my words and find an actual motive upon which to lay the foundations of my concerns. Sure, there were many red flags waving in the deep recesses of my mind but, despite my attempts to apply logic in my thoughts, I always came empty-handed regarding why Aeneas seemed to present a danger. I was certain that his grouchy expression, or his rather indifferent attitude towards others, could not be used as excuses for that. The man had done nothing that could be considered suspicious per se, but it was not enough to dispel my doubts.

"In that case, then I should be more at ease," said Nanna, to my confusion. "With the way other girls talked about him, I worried that he might have easily swayed your heart."

She could not be serious about it. I hoped this was not the case, at least.

" _Ha!_ Even if that was his intention, which I highly doubt, he would need to try harder. Besides, the man looked so miserable when we met that I'm very much surprised he could have the ability to enrapture anyone— let alone my mother, of all people. Would it be too risky to think she's the one who finds him attractive, after all?"

"What are you saying? Be more respectful of your mother, young lady!"

I should have seen that coming from a mile. Even if Agnese treated her poorly, at times, Nanna would never let me badmouth her.

"It was a simple observation," I offered as defense. "I would not presume to make such a daring judgment."

Nanna looked relieved with my response, and her features softened. "Bah, maybe he's just one of those nosy investigators that have nothing better to do with their time. Remember that the Festival of the Sword is approaching soon. From what I've heard, he is making some sort of study on our religion— for personal reasons. It would appear that Aeneas is not keen on sharing tidbits of his private life, much any less with me, so I wouldn't know what else to tell you."

That was true. People who visited Fortuna were, for the most part, researchers that wished to learn more of our society and history, or journalists seeking sensational stories on the occult. There were even those that craved danger and adventure, hoping to have some kind of supernatural encounter with demonic beings. When one thought about it, maybe the paranormal tourism could have been a profitable market… if Fortuna was not so bent on giving the impression of an ordinary place.

Either way, Aeneas did not appear to be any of those types of travelers but there was no way I could determine his true motives as of yet.

"And you don't think that merits enough attention? We are ignorant of what he really intends to do, and if he has something to hide then it means he's up to no good. I cannot believe mother has agreed to this. And even if it was true that he's making research, are we supposed to be some kind of rare species for him to observe in their natural habitat? He could very well be trying to smear on the reputation we've been building for years. Words and facts can be twisted; lies become truths when there are enough people willing to believe them."

"Do you honestly think Agnese has not assessed this young man already, or that she is incapable of protecting her own interests?"

"That's not what I—"

"If Aeneas wants to make his research here, then we'll limit our relationship with him to that purpose. You don't have to become his friend or be happy with his presence."

"But if he—"

"And that will be the end of the story."

"Are you—?"

"Anna, what are you so afraid of? One would think that this man has offended you, somehow. Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

"No." My reply was swift and confident, but Nanna was not convinced by it despite my efforts to cover up my disgruntlement.

"Are you sure?" She was suspicious of my strange behavior already. To be honest, I wished I could have had a solid argument against him, but my problem was that precisely— I had none. A hunch was not enough to call Agnese's decisions into question.

Clearing my throat, I regarded her with a blank stare. "There's nothing else to add to this story. I was at the quay, approached the rail, fell into the sea and almost drowned. Then Aeneas appeared in our lives, and mother thought it would be a fantastic idea to let this outsider stay with us. Why should I have to explain that?"

"Because you're not being yourself. I know there is something bothering you but, unless you tell me, I cannot help you. You're expecting others to read your mind and immediately know what's troubling you."

"Enough!" I snapped, making Nanna flinch at my sudden reaction. "I don't understand your need need to probe me for answers that I have already given you."

Answers that I knew were wrong.

Nanna narrowed her eyes and thinned her lips. "You're acting like an upset little girl, when things don't go her way. If you didn't want to talk about it, then why even mention the topic in the first place?"

Her tone was harsh and surely made me realize how rude I had been when she only meant well. A patient did not go to a physician, seeking treatment for an illness, only to refuse any help when he was asked of his condition.

I did not know what to say, so my first instinct was to lower my gaze— embarrassed at my outburst, again. Why could I not find temperance in my own emotions and thoughts? Nanna was right; I was throwing a tantrum like a child, instead of trying to be more pragmatic.

Ever since I realized that the demon attack was not real, that encounter with the cloaked stranger, I felt on edge… in constant fear that I was losing touch with reality little by little. Maybe it was true. I was probably losing my mind and, in the end, I would drive those I loved away.

"Anna…" she mumbled but I did not answer, which prompted another soft call from her. "Come here, please."

I could not do that, knowing that I had wronged her unfairly. Right then, I was like an ostrich that had stuck its head in the sand and refused to acknowledge her.

This would not do for her, however. With some difficulty, Nanna sat up— groaning all the while, as she struggled with the weight of her body and her tired muscles. Forsaking my ashamed stupor, I shook my head and told her to stay put. Despite my protests, she did not listen.

"I'm sorry for being terrible, Nanna. I must be an annoyance to you."

Placing an arm around my shoulders, she brought me closer to her and I surrendered. "You never are a nuisance for me, Anna. I forbid you to think like that ever again, do you hear me?"

Here I was claiming to be worried about her health, yet I kept throwing my fears and animosity at her. Oh, how could she even put up with me?

"I did not mean to..."

"I know you didn't and, to tell you the truth, I understand your suspicions about Aeneas. I am a little worried, too, but I don't think he should be reason for you to lose your nerve or sleep."

"I surely hope he is not." Laughing under my breath, I rested my cheek against her and stared at my naked toes. Then, a thought came to mind and I frowned with determination. "However, rest assured that I will be keeping an eye on him... just in case."

At that moment, Nanna seized my shoulders and held me at arm's length, narrowing her green eyes. Meanwhile, I began to regret having said those words.

"I don't know what you are planning to do but, _please_ , try to stay out of trouble this time."

"Whatever do you mean by that?" I feigned not to understand what she was talking about, but I should have known by then that it was futile to try and fool her.

"You know what I mean, Osanna Teofila. For your own good, you'd better heed my advice."

She never called me that, unless she was angry...

I sighed with weariness and rolled my eyes, pursing my lips tight before trying to smile. "Very well, I will. Do not worry about me."

Nanna nodded, pleased at my reply, though I did not know whether to feel relief or remorse. "That is enough for now. Thank you, little sparrow. I'm feeling much better after such a wonderful massage. I swear those hands of yours are divine."

Her words elicited a chuckle from me. "Oh, please. Even I can tell you're trying too hard to flatter me. We both know you only say that so I keep rubbing your sore feet because no one else will."

"I wouldn't say it if it was not the truth!" She put on an offended expression and I laughed, patting her back.

"Of course." I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized that it was getting late. "Well, as much as I would love to stay and talk some more, I should be going to bed."

"That's right; off to bed with you! You should be sleeping by now, and I don't want to hear you've been reading until late hours of the night." She shooed me, while I stood up and gathered the book with the blankets piled in a bunch by her feet.

"Yes, ma'am!" Once I had tucked her in bed, and kissed her forehead, she gave me a look of nostalgia that had me wondering if there was something wrong. "What's on your mind?"

She shook her head, smiling. "Nothing of importance, but it is odd to see that our roles have reversed."

"Really? Is it so strange that I do these things for you?"

"Ah, you don't understand, Anna. When you were a little child, clinging to my dress, it was me who tucked you in bed and kissed you goodnight."

"Well…" I pinched her chubby cheeks and giggled. "Now it's me the one doing that."

"I wish you would have never grown up," she said suddenly, catching me off guard. "I wish no one would take you from me. Forgive me for being so selfish, my girl."

My heart ached at the sorrow in her eyes, and I sought the right words to comfort her despite my dismay. For a moment, I understood what she had gone through when my father was dying, and I felt sorry for having been less than compassionate. I knew that, deep down, she was scared of the future and, if truth be told, and as odd as it sounded… so was I.

"Then I'll tell my husband-to-be that, if he wishes to marry me, he will have to accept my cherished old nanny as part of the deal as well. What do you think about that, Ms. Giovanna?"

"Well, it's unlikely Agnese will agree with that condition."

I placed a finger on my lips and spoke in a tone above a whisper. " _Shh_ , she doesn't have to know. We'll smuggle you out of this house when the time comes."

Her laughter warmed my heart, and I was content to see her happy. "Oh, Anna… what would I do without you?"

"Well, for starters you would be lying in bed, complaining about sore feet and achy joints."

"That is why I have you."

"Do not push your luck," I told her with a sly smile and then wished her goodnight. Again, she reminded me not to get in trouble and I squinted my eyes at her as I walked out of her bedroom.

To be fair, I sensed it was going to be difficult to keep my word, but I did not believe the consequences would be severe. All I knew was that I had to tread carefully, but how far would I be allowed to go, before I was caught in a trap?

With no leads to guide me, I would have to wait and see how the situation developed. Nothing else. After all, there was no actual reason for me to be so paranoid about the presence of a simple man, and I needed to let go of this sudden trepidation lingering inside.

If only it were so easy.

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Despite Nanna's advice for me to sleep, I could not surrender my soul to the world of dreams. After the experience I had undergone, I was not in a hurry to go to that place again where illusions became a bizarre and scary reality.

In an attempt to distract myself, I had retrieved the Song of Ilium—from its place in the drawer of my oddly neat desk— and it was not long before my nose was buried in its pages. It belonged to the beloved collection of my father, Teofilo— one of several literary compositions that he had treasured throughout his lifetime. Like his grandfather before him, he had been fond of compiling these works in their original languages, given his fascination with philology from a very young age.

It was not too hard to guess that I held affection for these books, though my love did not exactly spring from any natural attachment to literature. Diving in those pages made me feel at home again, reminded me of the times father had read stories to me before I fell asleep. They brought back happy memories when he was still with us, and every time I read them I hoped to hear his comforting voice once more.

I could recall those long afternoons we spent in his study, me sitting on his lap as I assimilated the knowledge he shared with diligent interest. Each day with him presented a new challenge that I endeavored to conquer. There were occasions that Nanna had to drag me out of there when he was very busy, and I had my own obligations, though he always promised to see me before going to bed. No matter what, he always kept his word.

And his riddles. Oh, they were one of my favorite parts— a treat for my curious and restless mind. As easy or as difficult as they could be, I never turned down an opportunity to find answers for puzzling questions. Sometimes it would take me days to figure them out, if they proved to be especially tricky to piece together. But even when he offered to reveal the solution, and teased me to give up, I would not admit defeat. The thrill of accomplishment was too much for me to surrender, and father was well aware of that. Perhaps he found it hilarious when I crossed my chubby arms, furrowed my brows, and answered with a squeaky 'no'.

However, his last riddle before he passed away had left me in a dead end. I recalled the words he had said when I saw him alive for the last time, despite Agnese's wishes, and asked him to tell me a riddle. I had assured him that I would have the answer the next time I visited.

 _"It is weightless and carefree as a child, but the more you carry it in time… a ponderous weight it becomes."_

Several years after his passing, I still had little idea of what he had meant. If that was not enough, to add to my bewilderment, he said that in all probability its meaning would be lost to me until I was much older, and I wondered why would I have to wait so that I could comprehend at long last. To be honest, this was a secret I had never shared with anyone else. Never did I ask others about this riddle because I wanted to find the answers myself. I believed it was for the best to heed my father's words and reach that understanding he spoke about, a knowledge that only time could bestow.

As I curled in bed with the Song of Ilium in my hands, I noticed the cotton bookmark I had placed in Book XVIII and decided to continue from that particular page. However, even as I became immersed in the story of the epic, I realized— much to my chagrin— that this was not the most suitable way to dismiss concerns from my mind.

Aeneas…

 _Aeneas._

The mythical hero, of course. Why did the connection not occur to me before? It felt like I had completely forgotten about it. Needless to say, this was not helping matters at all but I would not let the thought of him take my enjoyment away.

It should not have bothered me that much. However, the more I kept reading that name… the more I began to associate his face with that of the Dardanian prince. That could have worked better, if it was not for the fact that the Aeneas from the book spoke far more than I imagined the other Aeneas had probably done in his entire life. No doubt that was an exaggeration, but my point still stood.

I was not satisfied with that comparison. Maybe he could be arrogant, cruel and selfish like proud Achilles, instead of the embodiment of Roman virtues Aeneas was supposed to be in the Aeneid? I was not sure I wanted to know, but it was a good question as any. Then again, why did I care?

Just when I decided to call it a night, my stomach growled in hunger.

Trying to get some sleep like this would be futile, so I set the book aside and prepared to leave my bedroom in the hunt for something to eat. The kitchens were my destination, and I traversed the long dark corridor towards the stairs. I was not going to wake up Nanna, or the cook, for a simple sandwich that I was capable of making with my own hands. Agnese used to do that, every time, and it was a habit of hers I was not fond of. The poor cook deserved his rest after a long day of work. I was sure he had more than enough stress with the visit of a guest, whom Agnese was striving to please.

Never mind that. If Aeneas was to stay, then I would have to deal with it.

Despite the ostensible emptiness of the house, I knew that there were knights standing guard. Most of them were patrolling outside but, given that it was just an ordinary night, the security was more lax. On my way, I found one of them and he was a little startled to see me— eyeing me nervously, as I approached. When he asked me what I was doing up so late, I explained that I only wished something to eat.

"Very well, miss. Call me if you need anything."

My journey finally came to an end as I reached the kitchens, and I made it my mission to prepare a sandwich that would sate my appetite. I had to admit I did not know my way around this place very well, as it was mostly foreign territory for me. Still, it was not that difficult to guess where the ingredients were kept and, soon, I was working towards my goal. My stay was brief and, once I was done with my meal, I made sure to leave everything the way it was before returning to my chambers for the night.

But when I was climbing the stairs, I heard a noise which had me snapping my head towards it in panic. There was nothing that I could identify as immediate danger, however. Scolding myself mentally, I tried to shake off that sensation of fear clinging to my skin and resumed my path but, then, the sound of distant footsteps caught my attention.

Another abrupt stop, and I was holding my breath as I looked around. To my dismay, the knight was nowhere to be found in his post downstairs— where did he go, I wondered— so I could not count on him to lend me a hand. Well, perhaps he was the one that had caused those noises but… I had a strange feeling that this pattern of footsteps did not belong to him.

I hurried towards the second story, endeavoring to be as quiet and quick as possible. The footsteps persisted for a few seconds and then stopped.

"Sir knight, is that you?" I called, standing at the end of the corridor, but only a whisper of silence answered for him. "Hello?"

Where was that light switch when you needed it? I could not see very well in the darkness, and I struggled to make out a dark silhouette that was apparently standing before a door. What would he even be doing here?

Assuming that it was the knight… and not something else. Which led me to a dreadful realization that made me wish I had remained blissfully unaware.

Was I having hallucinations again?

Walking on the tip of my toes, I huddled against the wall and tried to make myself as small as possible— hiding from the figments of my own imagination. Deep inside I was afraid of what I would find this time, but I needed to know what was going on. I wanted to see where the lines of reality and delusions blurred. In a sense, I suppose that it turned me into a masochist.

There was something I could not ignore about my surroundings, no matter how hard I tried— something I had sensed before but did not take the time to analyze. It was a patent change in the air, a shift in energy that I began to perceive in every fiber of my being. Without words, it seemed to command my absolute submission and fear whatever being was behind this work of evil.

This could not be a simple illusion… or I did not want to contemplate the notion, at least. Better to keep my wits about me, lest I began a descent into a dark place that I certainly did not want to see again. With this in mind, I steeled my heart intent on seeking the truth. Maybe that was the reason I did not turn back and ran away to the safety of my covers. To be honest, more than once I felt tempted to do so but the other part of me— that which needed answers, whatever they might have been and regardless of how terrifying they could be— would not surrender so easily despite the odds.

"Stop tormenting me, whatever you are. Begone, foul creature. Sparda compels you!" I hissed just above a whisper, but the shape did not budge. "Leave—!"

All of a sudden, muffled laughter drifted in the air and startled me into turning around in a haste. I would not deny that I was scared, and my reaction was not the most level-headed one.

"Who's there?" Raising my voice, I found myself growing more nervous by the moment with no idea what was going on.

So focused was I on my muddled thoughts, and such was my apprehension, that I squeaked like a scared mouse at the echo of a door creaking closed. My heart skipped a beat, as I gazed at the endless corridor ahead and noticed the dark silhouette had disappeared.

There had to be a logical explanation for this. Or that was my wish, at least. Assuming that it was a person, to begin with. It could have been one of the attendants, but the domestic service did not usually linger in this wing of the house at late hours of the night. They had separate accommodations to that effect, and this part of the mansion mostly remained unoccupied except when we had relatives staying and guests—

 _Aeneas…_

Oh, well… it was a good possibility, but what was he doing wandering in the dead of the night? Granted I was out of bed, too, but my paranoia was taking over as I identified this behavior as something that could be considered suspicious. Though I needed to take this whole matter with a pinch of salt and try to investigate a bit more, before drawing hasty conclusions.

Something told me I was going to regret this. Nanna had warned me to keep my distance with him, and I was doing the _opposite_ of that. I supposed there was no danger if I tried to use a stealthy approach, but the silence was so loud that I could hear my own breathing and even my blood rushing with adrenaline. In fact, my sense of hearing seemed to have heightened to unusual levels in my state of trepidation, as I ventured further into the wolf's lair.

It was funny to think about it. This was my house yet I felt like an intruder, a trespasser that feared to be caught and punished.

I allowed my senses to guide me, my gut doing rapid flips as I pushed forward. This stifling atmosphere was suffocating me and clawed at the walls of my mind, almost as if it wanted to dominate me with mindless fear. My heart was beating fast, so fast I could hear it pounding in my ears as my body quivered at the uncertainty that was overwhelming me.

But if it had been him… would he not have come forward and said something when I called? Oh, indeed, he could have done such a thing and, had that been his choice, then I would have turned around and gone to my bedroom. However, he chose not to; therefore, he had deliberately attempted to make his presence go unnoticed and I would have liked to know why— what was he hiding.

Most importantly, what if it was not Aeneas? What if it was no one? Regardless of my attempts to impose order in my thoughts, I had come full circle at the starting point.

"I will fear no evil. Even if I walk in dark and desolate places, He will protect me. The Lord is my Savior, my sword and shield. He will not forsake me," I mumbled to reassure myself. It was a good time as any to commend my soul to Him.

I definitely was a masochist, was I not? Who in their right mind would put themselves through this psychological torture at will?

As I approached one of the rooms, I took notice of the muffled noises coming from within. It was the library— I recognized those double doors— nothing glaringly suspicious about it, but this was not the most appropriate time to do some study.

I tried to search for a shred of light at the bottom but it was dark, though that did not exactly mean there was no one inside. It could be Aeneas, but for all I knew he could have also been fast asleep and I was accusing him of some absurd conspiracy. In cases such as this, I had to give him the benefit of the doubt at the very least.

However, when I stood by the door, the noises stopped altogether and I furrowed my brows in confusion. Stepping closer, still on the tip of my toes, my hand grazed the wood and I pressed my ear against it, trying to hear something. _Anything._

There was only silence from the other side.

Slowly, I let out the breath I had been holding and gulped the knot in my throat. If this was a game my mind was playing with me, then I found no fun or joy in it.

I was overcome by a sense of dejá vu and I remembered what had happened that night when I saw the cloaked stranger. The situation had been similar to this! I did not know what was happening anymore. Was it man? Demon? A vision? I had no idea what I was dealing with, at this point, and that scared me even more.

I drew away and took a few steps back, trying to put my mind at ease. But just as I thought about turning back and leaving, I felt something grab a hold of my shoulder— causing me to squeal in mindless fright. I probably jumped several feet in the air, so high that it felt as if my soul had left my body— never to return again.

"Miss, it's alright. Fear not!"

Once I was able to calm down, and have a better look at the owner of the voice, I stared into the brown eyes of a young man. It did not take me long to identify him as the knight I had come across with a while ago, before heading to the kitchens. He stood in front of me, wearing an expression of awkwardness at my overreaction, a little flushed and out of breath too— which made me take notice of the dim lights that revealed his features.

Needless to say I was angry that he had sneaked upon me like that and almost scared me to death.

"Sparda, take me away!" I managed to utter with a shaky voice, clutching my chest as I drew in shaky breaths. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

"Forgive me. It was not my intention to frighten you, miss, but I called and you gave no answer. I wondered if you were in need of anything, since I heard your voice."

He sounded genuinely regretful, and my expression softened at his words. It occurred to me that I had strayed from my course, and he was only making sure that nothing bad had happened. Of course I did not want to tell him of the strange noises that led me here. I suffered enough embarrassment, when I claimed there had been an intruder in our house, that I preferred not to disclose any details. Instead, I made up a lie.

"I think I got a little disoriented for a moment. My mind is still a bit fuzzy, after that unfortunate incident at the quay."

How weird it must have been for him to see me walk down the corridor, alone in the dead of the night, muttering some gibberish under my breath, before stopping to press my ear against a random door. I probably looked like a lunatic in his eyes, and I would not blame him for that.

"I see." He nodded in understanding and then looked down, crossing his arms behind his back. "Miss, I'm in no position to tell you what to do, but it would be advisable to return to your bedroom. It's late, and you need your rest to recover soon."

That was my cue to leave. I threw a dubious glance to the door, but then shook any thoughts on playing detective for the time being and gave the man a forced smile.

"Thank you, I will. Goodnight, sir knight. "

Rushing to my chambers, I tried to disregard certain ideas forming in the back of my mind and prepared myself for bed as though nothing had happened. I was not planning on telling Nanna, either way, so as not to put unnecessary distress on her.

After cleansing my teeth and brushing my hair, I climbed under the sheets and gazed at the ceiling for a long time. Then closed my eyes and willed myself to fall into a fitful dream.

* * *

Dawn broke, and with it a new day came.

Too bad I had not slept very well, and it showed on my face— to Nanna's consternation. As expected from her, she nagged me until I confessed that I had stayed reading until late.

She raised her hands in the air, as a manner of prayer, and I could not help but chuckle in spite of her dramatic moment.

"Sparda, give me patience with this child."

"Don't be so exaggerated, Nanna. It will be fine." I sipped the warm honeyed milk from the cup in my hands. I was having breakfast in my bedroom, and it made me think of how inconvenient it must have been for others to bring my meals here. Hopefully, I would not have to stay here any longer. "I could not sleep last night, so I thought doing something else would help. I didn't realize that it was so late."

"I swear, Anna, if you don't—"

"I said it will be fine. Stop worrying so much, please." As I snuggled on the settee by the window, I gazed outside to the gardens below and sighed. "Is it not a beautiful day? I would like to go to the gardens this morning. You don't have to accompany me, of course. I just wish to have a moment… please?"

Nanna stared at me with hands on her hips, as if trying to intimidate me, but in the end she gave in. "Very well, but finish your breakfast first otherwise I'm not letting you out of this room. Look at your scrawny constitution… it's unacceptable! And you will eat all your food today, no complaints."

"Alright. I will, for you dear Nanna," I said to placate her spirits and offered her my best smile.

Once I had finished my meal, she helped me dress and braided my hair. Thank goodness no corset for me, only a loose dress to wear at home. I feared asking her if we were attending mass any time soon, but I guessed since I was recovering we would not be able to travel to the business district. That was, if Agnese still allowed me to leave the estate, at all.

After I told Nanna that I would remain close to the house, should she need me, I was on my way downstairs. I did not want to remain confined in my bedroom, and Leoni had not specifically said that I could not go out and enjoy the day for a little while. In the meantime, I could pick a book to read or do revision for my lessons. Classes with my tutors had been suspended until further notice, so I needed to find some form of entertainment to keep my mind occupied with more productive thoughts.

Grabbing my notes, I dropped by the library and decided to fetch some reading material to complement my studies on biology. Once I found it, I headed to the hall where our butler greeted me.

"Good morning, miss Osanna. I didn't expect to see you up so soon. How are you feeling today?"

"Good morning, Livio!" I greeted back with a cheerful mood, as I reached the bottom of the stairs. "I'm feeling much better, thank you. How are you today?"

"I am quite well, miss. Thank you," the older man said, bowing his head.

Looking around, I realized that the house was too quiet and wondered where Agnese might have been. "Where is my mother? Is she in town?"

"Indeed, miss. She left at the usual hour this morning but still hasn't returned."

I probably would not be allowed to do the same in a while. Knowing her, she would argue that the world was too dangerous a place for me and, in a way, maybe she was right. It was evident to her that I could not take care of myself, so the most obvious measure was for me to be confined at home for my own safety.

"If mother asks, tell her I will be in the gardens."

She could let me have that as consolation, no? This was not to say I was angry at her. There was no justifiable motive for me to blame her decisions on account of my irresponsible actions, neither did I want to argue about them. I would only be making a fool of myself in front of her.

"Of course, miss."

Waving my hand in farewell, I took my leave and crossed the threshold into the terrace that preceded the softer grounds covered in grass. Descending the white stone steps, I thought of seeking a comfortable place to shelter myself from the sun— namely the gazebo where I had spent time with Nanna the previous day, and my favorite spot throughout the years. I would have been lucky, if it was not for the fact that someone else had claimed it before I had the chance.

I did not even have to guess who it was. Those locks of snow-white hair gave away the identity of the man that occupied my intended place, and I immediately knew that I had come across none other than Aeneas. He was seated in one of the snug armchairs— foot propped over the opposite thigh, whilst an open book rested on his lap— lazily holding a glass of what I could identify as red wine in his hand. A rather self-assured and conceited posture for someone who was not in his own house, I noted. Also, was it not a little too early to be drinking alcohol? My only hope was that we were not housing a dipsomaniac, but what did we know.

Aeneas seemed to be deep in thought, staring off into the blue sky in the horizon with a pensive frown— unaware of my presence or purposefully ignoring it. I bid him good morning once I was close enough, but my greeting went unanswered. Not what I was expecting. At the very least, I would have thought that he had some manners to speak of but I did not let it bother me too much.

In all honesty, I was annoyed that he got to keep that spot but I would not fight him over a matter so trivial— it was a stupid excuse. Either way, I did not want to linger in his presence so I decided that I would retire somewhere else to be alone and sulk. It was quite apparent he did not make for enjoyable company, and I had no intention to see if he could prove me wrong. Actually, I shuddered at the thought of it despite the summer heat.

I walked farther away and settled under the shade of another gazebo, by the side of a small pond. Marble sculptures of classic design— artworks of the artists that Agnese had so graciously endorsed— lined up on the sidewalk, decked with colorful tulips. The green meadows extended towards the forest beyond and, diverting my gaze just a little, I could observe the cliff and old ruins overlooking the sea in the distance. It was said to be the place where numerous maidens were sacrificed to an old god, former lord of these lands.

Despite having lived here for many years, I had never visited those remains. It was forbidden to go deep into the forest without any protection, and I doubted that Agnese would allow me to visit the Cliff of the Maiden— considering the terrible tales that surrounded it.

Though it would appear the opposite, mine was not a morbid curiosity. It was not my attraction to such macabre story that piqued my interest, but what my father had once told me about a rare and extraordinary occurrence.

 _"Once a year, you can see the stars of the night sky in the sea."_

Many lights gathered at the coasts for a few nights, before vanishing. Of course these were not an inexplicable phenomenon, at least not anymore. They were sea fireflies, although popular beliefs once had it that they were the tears of the unfortunate maidens devoured by the terrifying snake of the seas.

Father had gone to the cliff, when he was younger, and he told me that the view of the sea fireflies was magnificent; a true spectacle worthy of witnessing in a lifetime. One day, he would take me there… but it was a promise he could not keep because he was gone.

And, in all probability, I would never see it.

* * *

After a while, I considered it was time to return. The sun was high, and I surmised it would be noon soon. Thank goodness that Nanna had forced me to apply sunscreen, and wear a wide-brimmed summer hat, because the walk back was longer than I would have liked. Unfortunately, my complexion was not made for beautiful tans as I always burned easily, if I stayed out in the sun without any means to protect my skin. It was a truth that I had learned the hard way.

When I approached the gazebo Aeneas had been at earlier, I noticed that he was already gone but I did not particularly care to know where he could be. Or maybe I should have, seeing as his presence was not something I could readily ignore. Though I could not prove anything as of yet— neither was I certain of what to look for— there was this lingering sensation that something was wrong with him.

I knew that I was was being unreasonable, and even prejudiced, but I still did not feel at ease around him neither with the idea of sharing the same space. Our energies seemed to clash; they were not in harmony, so to speak. It was hard to explain but, maybe, it could be best described as this hunch that one sometimes would not get along with certain people… and, quite often, it was for a good reason.

Better to keep my eyes and ears open.

"Welcome back, miss Osanna. How was your stay in the gardens?" Livio greeted me at the threshold, when I finally made it to the stone steps.

"It was… quite relaxing, I suppose," I droned with lassitude, not very eager to make small talk.

"Perhaps a cool drink will invigorate the young miss? After walking a distance under the sun, no doubt you need it."

"Is that... for me?" My mouth felt dry once my eyes lay on the large glass with soft creamy liquid, sitting on the tray in his hand. Regardless of my efforts to hide my sudden craving, I was ogling that smoothie like my life depended on it and I could tell that, beneath that solemn mask Livio wore, he was amused at the silly expression of longing on my face.

"Indeed."

Obviously, he had anticipated my arrival since he was waiting for me with my prize— which I tried not to down with desperate chugs, in spite of the Atacama desert that my throat had become. Had Aeneas not claimed _my_ gazebo first, I could have enjoyed the wonders of this ambrosia much sooner.

It took me some time to speak, and I heaved a contented sigh when I finished my drink. "That was delicious, thank you!"

"I am glad you found it to your taste."

"Has my mother returned yet?"

"Yes, miss. She is in her chambers resting, at the moment. Lunch will be ready soon, so perhaps you would like to refresh beforehand?"

"Yes, I would like that." I smiled, contemplating the idea of a shower and a change of clothes.

"Will you be joining your lady mother today, or would you prefer for your meal to be delivered to your room?"

"I will have lunch with my mother. Thank you."

"Very well, then. Shall I carry those books for you, miss?"

Shaking my head, I made sure to let him know that it would be no problem for me. "Do not worry, Livio. It's not that heavy a weight and I can manage just fine on my own. Besides, I will need them later."

My desk would soon be a mess, no doubt, and it would be a miracle that I could even find anything.

When I climbed the stairs, I was surprised to cross paths with Aeneas again— going the opposite direction of mine. From what I could see, his expression was apathetic, devoid of any joviality, and there seemed to be an ominous shadow looming over him as he descended with firm steps. The echo of his unhurried but steady tread made me slow down and, for a moment, I was transported back to the strange events of last night.

 _What an odd coincidence..._

Except that it could not be.

Giving him a pointed look as he approached, I arched an eyebrow at the thought forming in my mind. Certainly I would not be one to police the behavior of others, but I could not vouch for the actions of this man.

Aeneas had freshened up, if his damp but well groomed hair and different clothes were of any indication. There even was the faint fragrance of lavender and peppermint emanating from him, so it was easy to imagine that he had taken a liking to baths with scented oils.

I regarded him with reservations, waiting to see if he would say something. Maybe he actually did not hear me the first time and, to test this theory, I decided to greet him again. To be honest, I was not actually trying to strike an entertaining conversation. It was meant to be a polite gesture, nothing more.

Again, he did not make any efforts to acknowledge my presence; merely walked past me without as much as a single word. This time, I was taken aback by his slight since it was unthinkable for a gentleman to behave in such an unbecoming fashion with a lady. I did not think I had done anything inappropriate that merited this rude treatment, so I could not understand his actions. However, it did not help to improve my opinion on him.

What an uncouth man!

"So vulgar and hateful," I grumbled under my breath as I stomped to my chambers, feeling my dislike for Aeneas grow.

But soon I would find out that my aversion could only become stronger.

During lunch, Agnese was put to shame when her so called 'guest of honor' was nowhere to be seen. In a way, it made me happy that I would not have to see his face, but his lack of consideration left much to be desired.

"What about Aeneas?" she had asked, rather confused and irked, as we were served the first course.

Livio shifted in his spot and exchanged an uneasy glance with the cook, before he replied. "Regrettably, Mr. Aeneas will not be able to join the lady and the young miss today. He seemed to be… very busy in the library when I spoke to him and sends his deepest apologies, my lady."

Apologies? I was beginning to doubt he even knew how to do that.

Agnese looked disappointed, but she soon covered up her morose expression with an attitude of casual dismissal. "Oh, well, perhaps we should leave him be. I have Osanna to keep me company, anyways."

I was bristling on the inside. Never mind that he had slighted me first, but doing so to the mistress that had generously put her home at his disposal was unacceptable. Rejecting an invitation to participate in a meal, while he was a guest in someone else's house, and for such petty reasons, was not something that one could easily overlook.

We said a small prayer in thanks. In the seclusion of my thoughts, I asked Sparda that this man would leave soon because I was not sure we could live together under the same roof.

I had no wish to, either.

Trying to make some trivial conversation to dissipate the awkwardness of the moment, I turned to Agnese with a smile. "If I may ask, mother, how was your trip to the business district?"

She eyed me with suspicion but made no comment on my question, although I could tell she did not wish to say much on the matter.

"Business, as usual. Nothing you should be worried about, my dear."

My smile fell a little at her answer, and I gazed into my food— eating mostly in silence for the rest of lunch.

* * *

Tomorrow I would resume lessons with my tutors, Agnese informed me out of nowhere at some point of our meal. When it dawned on me what she had said, I began to panic a little since I still had pending assignments— and it would be in my best interests to get them done before dusk.

I needed to focus on algebra and finishing an essay on the downfall of the Roman Empire but, for the life of me, I could not find one of the volumes I was supposed to read.

I asked Nanna if she had seen it, by any chance, but she had no idea what I was talking about. Maybe I had left it somewhere downstairs, and it was placed in the wrong library.

Oh, this day kept getting better and better for me. Now I had to waste precious time that I could be spending writing the essay, instead of hunting for that blasted tome. In all honesty, I could have probably tried to make something up but I preferred not to be reprimanded, or punished, for not paraphrasing the book. It did not matter to them whether I was knowledgeable in a topic or not. They wanted me to read the texts, so I had to do as I was told.

Where could it be?

Of course, the most obvious place to begin my search was the library. But there was this particular location that made me a little restless— as it was the one where I had heard strange noises coming from, the previous night

Whether it was Aeneas or not, I could not deny there was something disturbing about this occurrence. Just thinking about it made me shiver, and I could feel that same fear crawl on my skin as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Why could I not get rid of this sensation that was beginning to exasperate me beyond belief?

Enough of this. I needed that book and I was going to get it.

However, I had yet another none too pleasant surprise when I opened the door and walked inside. My first thought was a resounding _'why?'_ , accompanied by a _'he's everywhere!'_ , though I managed to keep my mouth shut. Truly, I was not expecting to find him here neither did I look forward to seeing him again. Sometimes it felt as though this house was too small for the two of us, because that day I kept encountering him at every turn— to my utter discontent.

Certain thoughts lingered, but I chose not to inquire any further in the face of insufficient proof to back up my claims.

"Good afternoon." My words were curt as I spoke. Deep down, I was not even waiting for a response— just looking for an excuse to argue and let out my frustration.

Unsurprisingly, this was the third time he did not respond or acknowledged me. I should not have been that irritated, given how predictable were his actions, but his lack of manners and grandiose sense of self-worth was beginning to get on my nerves.

So I let him know.

"Excuse me but, by any chance, are you mute or deaf? I don't recall my mother using sign language to speak with you."

It was a rhetorical question. I knew his ability for speech was not impaired, and he could hear me as well, but perhaps sarcasm was a language of which he had a better understanding.

The white-haired man slowly tore his gaze away from the pages of the book in his hands and stared at me. For a moment, he gave the impression to be debating whether I was worthy of his time or not. Or he thought he could try to intimidate me with that sharp look. In another situation, I could have been daunted but I was too irritated to feel that way.

After a while, Aeneas finally deigned himself to speak.

"As you may appreciate, I am not. Hopefully, you have satisfied your curiosity," he stated with a flat and slightly nasal voice. _Strange_. One would have thought there was sufficient airflow going through those big nostrils, if his nose made up for a quarter of his face.

His pronunciation had a slight accent to it but he spoke with decent fluency, nevertheless. Aeneas was foreign, of course; not from this region. I recalled Nanna saying that he hailed from the United States and I had to say, if all Americans were anything like him, I was not impressed.

With a grunt of derision, he returned to his reading material without a pinch of self-consciousness or remorse. It was as though he had not even detected the irony in my words or, as it was my belief, did not care the slightest about them.

"Oh, I have, indeed! Thanks for giving me the opportunity to pass judgment on your character. I found it _most_ insightful."

At least I knew what I was dealing with.

"You dare to make presumptions about me, based on a few words?" His blue eyes flashed a glare that had me smiling on the inside.

My gaze strayed to the bookcase as I paced around the room, intent on showing him that he would not make me feel belittled in spite of his efforts.

"Oh, it's that simple. When it comes to the likes of you, I do not believe much else is needed."

The scrunch of his nose was hard to miss, even as he tried to remain indifferent to my remark. "You're too impertinent for a young girl."

"And you're too arrogant for a man who wants to appear as charitable and selfless, even when your disposition proves otherwise."

A pregnant silence followed, as we stared at each other from opposite sides of the room. The dull sound of the fans that spun above, dispersing the afternoon heat, was the only thing that disturbed the taciturnity of this tense moment. It was more than evident that he was assessing me without any shame, his gaze sweeping my form from head to toes. Being under the scrutiny of that piercing gaze was uncomfortable, I had to admit it, but I would not let him have the satisfaction of seeing me withdraw.

Unfortunately, there was a sudden knock on the door so it was a lost contest the moment I got distracted and looked away. Yet, to my relief, his attention too had been diverted and I did not have to feel embarrassed at my startle.

After another knock, it became obvious that he was not going to say anything so I took it upon myself to respond.

"Come in." I only hoped it was not Nanna looking for me… or Agnese— though that was very unlikely. Soon enough, she would be gathering with guests and having a merry time herself.

In walked a young maid, Ofelia, carrying a tray in her hands. Her brown eyes widened a little and she came to a halt, upon taking notice of my presence.

"Oh." She lowered her gaze, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to intrude."

Being caught alone with this man was an awkward situation, but I was guilty of nothing. I did not even want to cross paths with him.

"You interrupted nothing. Rest easy," I reassured her.

Ofelia nodded before stepping further inside, in Aeneas's direction. "Sir, I brought you something to eat and the wine you—"

"I want nothing," he grumbled, clearly upset, not even bothering to say thanks. "Take it away."

Somehow, he was beginning to remind me of Agnese when she was in a bad mood.

The maid looked at him with confused awe then glanced my way, unsure. It felt as though she was waiting for me to give her further instructions, or silently asking me for help. To be honest, even I was dubious of what to do given my second-hand embarrassment. At least, the charming effect Aeneas had on her was starting to wear off. Thank goodness.

"Does the young miss wish for anything?"

"I'm fine, thanks. I will soon be on my way out, either way."

"Very well. Excuse me, then. Miss. Sir." She fetched the empty glass sitting on the table, by Aeneas's side, then made a quick curtsy and took her leave. I could not help but feel sorry for her. It was enough to deal with Agnese's mood swings, but at least she was getting paid well for it— not that it could justify such a thankless job.

Once she had closed the door behind her, I crossed my arms and glared at Aeneas in reproach. "Could you be more haughty and childish, I wonder?"

"What do you want?" His annoyance and disgust were becoming more difficult to conceal, yet that did not stop me. Maybe then he would change his mind and go away.

"From you? I only expected a little courtesy, but that seems to surpass your most basic capabilities." If he wanted to impose a vitriolic attitude around others, then he would get the same from me. "As for the reason I am here…" Approaching the bookcase, I let my fingers graze the leather spines and dedicated enough time to give the pretense my visit was not unjustified. "I'm in search of a certain tome. Do not flatter yourself thinking that I was looking for you."

Being an attractive man, he must have been under the false belief that every woman in this house sought his attention. As if!

"I would not consider it flattering, _at all_ ," Aeneas deadpanned, and I resisted the urge to growl.

This man had such a way of ruffling my feathers that I was beginning to loathe him in less than half an hour— an accomplishment in itself. It was not so much his insult but the way he could keep his composed demeanor, and even have the gall to retort with such nonchalance, that made me so bitter.

Gritting my teeth, I practically snatched a random book from the shelf and turned around to meet his conceited expression. The smugness showed at the corner of his lips, barely but it was present, mocking me.

It was foolishness to try and strike a confrontation with him, but I would not tolerate his affront.

"You may have convinced my mother and this whole household that you're a hero, but even a hero loses his charm when he has no charisma or kindness."

"You must be mistaken, somehow; I never said that I was one. My guess is that you have read too many fairy tales about chivalrous knights and princesses. I would suggest that you attain to realistic expectations of the world, lest you are disappointed."

Ignoring his last words, I pushed the conversation back at him. "You're no hero, that is true. Yet you have no qualms in taking advantage of the high opinion others have of you, even if that reverence is undeserved."

"You claim I deserve no respect, yet you stand today with that defying attitude— blathering nonstop— thanks to me. Is this the way to show gratitude to someone who has saved your life, by attacking them and irritating them to the point of aggravation? Perhaps I should have left you to drown in the sea and given you a real reason to complain about. From the afterlife, of course."

Spoken like a true gentleman!

"My, what a curious sense of humor you have! If gratitude and recognition is what you care about, then make no mistake. I'm certainly grateful that you have come to my rescue that day, but let us make something clear. That does not mean I'll become blind to your rudeness and obsequious to your patronizing ways. If you were hoping for me to bow down and kiss your well-polished shoes, as you revel in the comfort of my own house, I'm afraid I will have to disappoint you."

Aeneas was ready to retaliate but, oh no, I would not allow him to have the last word in this argument.

"I may have to excuse your behavior, on this occasion. I'm sure that all the wine you had today has dulled your thinking, and you actually didn't mean anything of what you've said. Not to fret, though, as I forgive you. However, from now on, you should be more careful with your intake of alcohol. It's bad for your health and… people may start talking, too." His stoic expression betrayed nothing, but I could see that his blue eyes blistered with rage as he tried to keep his breathing even. It was all I needed to have a small taste of victory and, before walking out of the door, I turned to give him a bright faked smile. "Have a good day, sir."

I was certain that if he could shoot daggers from his eyes, he would have stabbed me to death right then but I did not care what he thought or whether he found me agreeable. To me, he was was nothing more than a shady, arrogant, condescending, pompous moron that I needed to keep an eye on.

The gates of hell would sooner open again than I would change my opinion on him.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Wow, would you look at that? Vergil is still our lovable jerk and I think I managed not to butcher his character. Too much, at least?_

 _Well, emm... Vergil drinking? It sounds weird, but it was a joke making reference to **textsfromdmc** in Tumblr, where Vergil is often portrayed as a guy with alcohol issues for funsies (well, pretty much everyone has alcohol issues). Seriously, after going through all those terrible things I would also need a drink. Plus, in the first novel Gilver drank a lot of booze in a contest with Dante, but he couldn't stand his alcohol so he lost consciousness and was robbed by the patrons (if you can believe it? What a loser lol). I should hope he's more resistant here!_

 _In a way, I imagine Nero's parents like Sims. I could literally see the minus signs popping out of their heads while they interacted. As you can imagine, it's going to be more of an antagonistic relationship— at least in the beginning. I mean, it's Vergil… he's an a**hole. And he has a big nose. Just check it out._

 _What do you think of the story so far? Reviews are appreciated ;u;_

* * *

 _ **JosephFrost:** Oh, gosh! Seriously, I still get super shy and smile like an idiot whenever people tell me that they're really enjoying my stories ;u; it means a lot to me._

 _Oh, yes, well… believe it or not, it's a little difficult for me to write in a style close to formal speech. I don't believe my vocabulary is the best for those kinds of situations, as I'm not really accustomed to it. Not even in my native language, (I'm very dumb to speak, seriously…). I know this is nothing too spectacular, but at least it doesn't sound terrible. Hopefully!_

 _And thanks for the recommendation! I admit I haven't read the fic, yet, because I tend to avoid stories on the characters I'm writing about (they may end up influencing me otherwise ;A;) but I should definitely give it a chance sometime ;u;_

 _You're a really sweet person and I thank you for such kind words!_

 _ **Ashy:** Awww you, thank you so much ;u; I'm so blushu right now._

 _ **Lila:** Wow, thanks! Yes, I've been fleshing out this world to give it a little more depth ;u; I'm very happy that readers believe Osanna is turning out to be a good, well-rounded character for the purposes of this story. You'll see that I tend to bother with really stupid details, though xD _

_**Cryocene:** Many thanks again! I'm trying to steer clear from the 'conventionalism' (do I dare call it that?) in DMC fanfics and it's my hope that I'm succeeding._

 _ **Amethyst-Phoenixx:** You found out my secret! I'm very fond of Pride and Prejudice, particularly the 2005 film. I like the dynamic between Lizzie and Mr. Darcy ;u; thank you again for the encouragement!_

 _ **sailorangelmoon1:** Thank you! Glad you're enjoying the fic :D_


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